


The Intertwined Arts of Leadership and Deception

by lavendrlies



Series: Danganronpa V3 : Chaotic Order [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Character Interpretation, Alternate Universe - Different Mastermind (Dangan Ronpa), Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Different Murders and Survivors, Graphic Description of Corpses, Grief/Mourning, Killing School Semester (Dangan Ronpa), Memory Loss, Multi, Murder Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Oma Kokichi, Psychological Trauma, Recovered Memories, Sexual Humor, Slow Build, Suicidal Thoughts, Trust Issues, all the tagged romantic relationships are implied at best, technically, the kiibouma will probably be the most obviously implied
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:01:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 19
Words: 180,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23483512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavendrlies/pseuds/lavendrlies
Summary: If there was one thing Ouma Kokichi hadn't been expecting, it was to wake up imprisoned in a school with fifteen other Ultimates and no clear way out.He may act immature and evasive, but damnit, he was still the Ultimate Supreme Leader, and if he had to lead in a serious situation like this, then he was going to fucking lead!-Alternatively: I challenge myself to do a canon rewrite by randomising the protagonist, mastermind and death order before working up from there, and end up with Ouma as the protag and a story flipped on its head.
Relationships: Akamatsu Kaede & Chabashira Tenko, Akamatsu Kaede & Oma Kokichi, Akamatsu Kaede/Chabashira Tenko, Amami Rantaro & Oma Kokichi, Amami Rantaro & Saihara Shuichi, Amami Rantaro/Shinguji Korekiyo, Chabashira Tenko & Yumeno Himiko, Gokuhara Gonta & K1-B0, Harukawa Maki & Momota Kaito, Iruma Miu & K1-B0, Iruma Miu & Oma Kokichi, K1-B0 & Oma Kokichi, K1-B0/Oma Kokichi, Momota Kaito & Saihara Shuichi, Oma Kokichi & Everyone, Oma Kokichi & Saihara Shuichi, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Series: Danganronpa V3 : Chaotic Order [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1820293
Comments: 203
Kudos: 535





	1. 0 : Ultimate Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, and welcome to this absolute clusterfuck of a fic! A few quick notes before the start:
> 
> 1\. The addressing of characters is based on the Japanese dub, so there is use of honorifics (or not, depending on who is speaking) and everyone is primarily referred to with surnames aside for a few exceptions. This is my first time writing with this system, so I may make some mistakes! I've also decided to write Gonta with correct grammar (like the Japanese dub, from what I'm aware), but he does still talk in third person.
> 
> 2\. While there are redesigns in this fic, the level to which each character is redesigned kinda,,,varies depending on how much I liked the original design? For example, Amami and Momota haven't been redesigned at all while Harukawa has been fully designed. It's pretty safe to assume that if I don't explicitly describe a change, then it's the same as canon. The only person this doesn't apply to is Ouma, because the fic is in his POV. He feels no need to inspect his own outfit because he himself is familiar with it. I'll most likely include a sketch of his redesign in a later chapter
> 
> And now, onto the prologue!

**Prologue : Ultimate Arrival**

* * *

Ouma Kokichi woke up in a dark, enclosed space.

This wasn't necessarily a problem by itself - he was a master of hide-and-seek, so it went without saying that he was far from claustrophobic. What _was_ concerning was the fact that he couldn't remember how he got there. Any attempts to do so ended in an explosion of pain in the back of his skull, followed by a brief sense of disorientation, so he reluctantly decided to put that problem aside momentarily. Instead, he began to probe against the sides of the cramped space, registering the feel of cool smooth metal and quickly being drawn to the slits in front of him, letting in the smallest slithers of light. Weird, this looked like a-

He adjusted his weight, bracing himself against the side and firmly pushing forward. Once, twice-

The door gave way and creaked open, allowing Ouma to stumble out before quickly regaining his footing and steadying himself. He glanced back over his shoulder, grimacing. A locker; exactly what he thought, but that didn't help the situation make any more sense. 

With the newfound space, he began to stretch to relieve the stiffness of his muscles. Geez, how long had he been in that locker for? He glanced lazily around the room - a classroom - and took in the oddities of the scene. It was overgrown with plants hanging down from the ceiling, which undeniably suggested that it was abandoned, yet there was a blackboard that doubled as a blue LCD screen at the front of the room. Since when were LCD screens a thing, let alone in a random classroom? There was a monitor suspended from the ceiling too, but it looked like it had way more speakers than necessary. The windows were covered in barbed wire, an unsettling bright red that made Ouma scrunch his nose up in distaste. It looked like a mess. 

He placed his hands on his hips with a huff, pausing when he felt something solid press against his leg. Ouma glanced down, pulling a sceptre from where it hung dutifully from his belt. He smiled at the familiar weight, inspecting the silver body, crowned by a glass orb that held shifting shades of purple, blue and green within. It wasn't much, but it was something he recognised amidst this uncertainty. He slid it carefully back into place, only to be brought back to the situation at hand by the sound of a loud bang behind him. 

Ouma tensed, turning around and staring at the locker beside the one he had emerged from. It seemed to be rattling, and a sense of dread and comfort stirred in his gut. He wasn't alone, and while he could easily assume whoever was inside the locker was in the same confusing situation as him, that didn't mean he'd know how to act. Ouma liked having control, and more importantly, he liked having control in interactions by knowing what to expect, which was hypocritical of him for several reasons.

Oh well. It wasn't like he could do anything about it now. He had missed his chance to leave the room before this happened, and the locker door was already opening to reveal someone tripping out, just barely missing falling over. At first glance, it appeared to be a boy around his age with spiky white hair. He was wearing a school uniform, a gakuran jacket with a pattern of green circuits stitched around the hem and sleeves. The rest of his appearance was weirder; his legs seemed fully artificial, a sleek black and bulky in segments. When he straightened up, his neck was a similar colour, contrasting his pale complexion, and his ears appeared to be replaced by...headphones, perhaps? He had two thin black lines leading from his jaw to two bright green eyes. Too green to be natural. 

Whoever he was, he startled as his gaze rose to find Ouma, almost tripping back into the locker. He couldn't help but snort at the reaction, cocking his head. "Hey, I'm not gonna bite your head off! Don't be rude!" 

The other seemed to fluster at the accusation, seemingly unaware of the playful tone as he fidgeted with the gloves he was wearing. "My apologies, but you could have made your presence more obvious! I wasn't expecting someone to just be standing there!" He deflated, arms falling to his sides as he turned his attention to the room, gaze flickering over the same oddities Ouma had initially noted. A thoughtful expression crossed over his face for a moment, only to quickly be replaced with concern. "Do you know where we are? I don't recognise this room at all."

Ouma clicked his tongue, grinning bitterly as he folded his arms behind his head. "Nope! Not a clue. I'm in the same boat as you." He watched his eyebrows furrow in disappointment, and opened his mouth to suggest searching outside the classroom for answers, only to be cut off by a chorus of annoying voices. 

_"Rise and shine, ursine!"_

The five stuffed animals seemed to spawn out of nowhere, making Ouma tense and his companion move closer towards him. They were each a different colour, but they all appeared to follow the same general outline, as if they were clones. Ouma stole a glance towards the other teenager, curious as to how he was taking the appearance of seemingly alive teddy bears, but he didn't seem overly panicked, just vaguely wary. He almost felt offended, considering how he had reacted to him, but he didn't voice anything about it as he found an opening in the incoherent chatter the bears were having among themselves. 

"Hey, sooo...mind telling us who the hell you guys are?" Ouma said with a smile, despite his voice being flat. "It's not every day you see animated stuffed animals, y'know? And if you know anything about what's going on, I think it's fair to say that an interrogation is in order."

The bears seemed to exchange glances with each other, before the blue one exclaimed in a grating voice. "We're the Monokubs! We're more than just some _stuffed animals._ "

"Monokubs?" The other boy muttered, and Ouma could appreciate the consideration and confusion in his voice. It was nice to know he wasn't the only one analysing every word he could make out, and yet still coming up with nothing. The name held no significance, and he was feeling more inclined to storm out of the room by the second, if only to escape these irritating things and the unhelpful banter they had lapsed back into. 

"Anyway, since you have questions, ask away!" The red bear said cheerfully, arms folded as it successfully refocused Ouma's attention. Finally, he had a possible source for answers. Even if the bears lied, Ouma would at least be able to take that into account; nobody lied for no reason. 

"One at a time, though. Otherwise we won't answer none of your questions!" The yellow bear chipped into, readjusting its glasses, but Ouma didn't care to listen. Instead, he threw out the first question before the bears would have any chance to distract him.

"Where are we?"

The resulting conversation answered some questions, only to generate several more in its wake. Ouma was quiet for the most part as they explained that they were in the Ultimate Academy for Gifted Juveniles, and how it was catered towards sixteen Ultimate students, the two of them included. The idea of an entire school being built for sixteen specific students didn't sit well with him, but he didn't share that fact besides a small grimace. And then, of course, the bears prompted them to start exploring the academy and introducing themselves to the other Ultimates, which only made him want to smash his head against the nearest wall because _that_ was his initial plan to _begin with_. 

Though he remained calm externally, he couldn't be more glad when the Monokubs ran away to who knows where. He glared daggers at the empty space where they once were, before his attention was drawn back to the boy beside him. Well, they _did_ say to introduce themselves, right?

"So you're an Ultimate too?" He asked, breaking the silence around the classroom before it could really settle and delighting in the way the other jolted in surprise. Really, he should have expected a conversation! He smiled as the boy looked over at him, before nodding, somewhat flustered.

"Ah, yes, I never introduced myself." Like a switch was flipped, he puffed his chest out and beamed with pride. "I am Kiibo, the Ultimate Robot. Despite the circumstances, it is a pleasure to meet you, especially as another Ultimate!"

"Wow, a robot?!" Ouma grinned, bouncing on the balls of his feet as stars exploded in his eyes. He had guessed it was something along those lines from his appearance, but the confirmation made it _real_. "That's so fun! I bet you look real cool under that uniform! Hey, can I touch your body a lil'? Or can you at least strip so I can see? Pleeease? I've always wanted to be friends with a robot!" He rambled, skipping forward. While he was certainly exaggerating, the base part of the statement was true; Kiibo intrigued him. 

Kiibo yelped at the advancements, scrambling behind the nearby desks to put distance between them. A redness had risen to his cheeks and he seemed to try to pull his jacket closer. "I'm...flattered, but that is highly inappropriate, and unnecessary! You wouldn't ask anybody else for something like that, would you?" His eyes narrowed as Ouma continued to slowly move closer, mischief clear on his face, and continued before he could answer. "You wouldn't! I may be artificial, but due to my strong AI, I act and develop like a human. If you continue to discriminate against me like this, then I will have to see you in court for your robophobic actions!"

Ouma paused, snickering at his words. "Did you just say 'robophobic'? Man, you're a riot!" The robot made several sounds of protest in response, but he didn't listen to them, letting out a theatrical sigh as he dropped his arms from where he had been holding them outstretched. "But fiiine. No touching. Can I at least ask you some questions? I really am super-duper interested in you!"

Kiibo blinked slowly, as if surprised. Ouma could admit that the way he presented himself would lead one to believe that he wasn't one to give up easily, and he _wasn't_ , but he also knew when to back off. All that aside, the robot seemed relatively genuine. Even if he didn't trust him, he felt comfortable enough in his company to try to keep him around.

"Well, I suppose I can entertain your curiosity." Kiibo began hesitantly, before smiling brightly. "The curiosity humans have is truly incredible. Please, ask away!" His eagerness almost made Ouma feel bad for the joke he was about to pull. Almost. 

He planted his hands against the desk between them, leaning forward and asking in a cheerful tone. "Do robots have dicks?"

The reaction was instantaneous: Kiibo's face lit up red even as he stepped back and pointed accusingly at Ouma, expression twisted into one that was equal parts frustrated and embarrassed. "Not ridiculous questions like that! That's awfully personal, and information that you do not need to be able to bond with me." He placed his hands on his hips with a huff, and Ouma had to stifle a giggle behind his scarf, pulling it further up to cover his mouth. "And even if I was going to answer a question like that, it certainly wouldn't be for you, when you have yet to even introduce yourself!"

"Oh, I haven't!" Ouma said in faux shock, complete with a hand raised to cover his already half covered mouth, as if he wasn't already fully aware of this fact. His voice took on a melodic undertone, as if he were singing his introduction, paired with a dramatic, sweeping bow. "Well then. I'm Ouma Kokichi, the Ultimate Supreme Leader."

"'Supreme Leader'?" Kiibo parroted back, clearly confused by the title, tapping his chin and scrutinising Ouma as he straightened back up. "As in, a dictator of sorts?"

"I suppose." He drawled out in response, rolling his eyes. Ouma was proud of his talent, and enjoyed playing up the negative connotations, but when it came to proper introductions, those negative connotations really came back to bite him in the ass. He bounced back quickly though, brightening up. "I know you're confused, it's written all over your face. Basically, I have a huge underground organisation with over ten thousand members!"

Kiibo gave him an odd look. "Is that true? I've not heard of such a large organisation before, especially not one that operates under a dictatorship."

"Well, duh. It's a secret, obviously!" He scoffed, stressing his syllables as if he were talking to a child. In hindsight, as someone who was trying to stay on Kiibo's good side, he really wasn't doing a good job, but the robot was so expressive! It made picking on him fun. "As you know, most of the world isn't too big on supreme leaders, so I can't just go public about it! I already have people out for my head as it is."

"I refuse to believe that there are people willing to kill you, especially if your organisation isn't well known." Kiibo said flatly, and Ouma toyed with the idea of him having a lie detecting function. That would be fun- though, considering the way this conversation is going, it was unlikely. And lo and behold, his thoughts were shut down by his addition. "Are you lying?"

"I dunno, am I?" Ouma replied instantly, as if it were second nature. He gave him a cheeky grin in exchange for his sigh of exasperation, before pulling his shoulders back and letting his expression turn serious. He began to march over to the only door in the room, head held high. "Anyway, we have better things to worry about! We've got to explore the enemy territory and find our allies." He was slightly surprised that there was no resistance when he went to open the door, though that was expected in hindsight, seeing as the weird bear things had prompted them to leave. He threw the door open, peeking out into the hallway and glancing around, not seeing any immediate danger. He exhaled. "Well, _I've_ got to do all that. You're free to join me if you want, but if not, I'll be on my merry way."

He waited for a few moments, in which no moves were made, before stepping out of the classroom with a bit of disappointment.

"Wait!"

Ouma adjusted his scarf again so that it was almost hooked over his nose, just to make sure his excited grin wouldn't be visible. Knowing the damned thing, it will slip back down within minutes. He lingered outside the classroom as he waited for Kiibo to maneuver his way out from within the desks, taking the moment to inspect the area. The air felt heavy, enough to make breathing feel odd, but not difficult. It seemed to be in a similar state of abandonment as the previous room, with greenery invading the space like a parasite, but that was to be expected in the same building. If anything, it was _more_ overgrown, considering the full trees that were lining the edge of the corridor. Ouma may not be an expert when it came to dendrology, but he was fairly certain that no singular tree should be able to grow in these kinds of conditions, let alone multiple. There were several exposed pipes and wires across the ceiling and walls, which had to be breaching some sort of health and safety regulations. Directly in front of the door was a row of windows, covered in more bright red barbed wire. It didn't look any better than the first set of barbed windows, but at least it let Ouma register that they were on the first floor, as he could see the shadows of nearby structures through the cloudy glass. 

To his right, the corridor stretched out to what looked like an entrance hall, with what appeared to be benches inside. Not that it mattered much, considering the fact that a barred metal gate prevented any entrance. Just before that, a notice board hung on the wall, covered with what appeared to be a variety of aged papers. Didn't those bears say this academy was made specifically for them? The abandoned air and traces of previous life suggested otherwise. To his left was a set of stairs leading down, in the most god awful shade of pink Ouma had ever seen in his life. Who thought it was a good idea to make _stairs_ of all things that bright? He knew as little about interior decorating as he did dendrology, but frankly, he could feel himself going insane with the way this place was decorated. 

Kiibo arrived at his side, quick to scan the area himself and patting his pockets with mild confusion. His gaze dropped to his pockets after a few moments, and Ouma watched curiously as he pulled a small tablet from one. Maybe tablet was too generous a term - it was only marginally larger than a smartphone. The word 'Monopad' stood proudly at the center of the back. "That's odd. I don't remember ever owning something like this." Ouma leaned closer as Kiibo booted the device up to investigate it. After a few seconds of loading, Kiibo's name popped up. 

"Huh. Looks like a student handbook or something." Ouma murmured thoughtfully, rocking back on his heels. "Oh! Do you think I have one too?" He said excitedly, more so than he felt, and began to check his own pockets. Due to his overall lack of pockets, it was easy enough to find an identical device tucked away in his jean pocket, opposite the side where his sceptre hung. In the same pocket, he noticed what felt like a key of sorts, wrapped in paper. Checking with a glance proved that it was exactly that, but he chose to ignore that mystery for the time being, instead retrieving the Monopad. Booting it up yielded similar results, with his name showing up after a moment of loading. "They're really pushing to prove this is a school, aren't they?"

"Perhaps." Kiibo mumbled, turning the Monopad off and slipping it back in his pocket. His attention refocused on Ouma, who was fiddling with his own Monopad, but finding nothing of value. "I suppose it would be a safe idea to keep them in our possession, right? I don't think angering whoever is behind this would be optimal when we haven't fully explored the situation."

Ouma hummed, visibly upset by the lack of information from the Monopad. It wasn't like he was expecting anything, but that didn't stop this from being frustrating. He put it away with a heavy sigh. "You might be right about that, Kiiboy. Now, let's get back on task. Enough dilly-dallying!" He clapped his hands as he spoke for emphasis, turning around so he could face the other as he walked backwards towards the windows. 

"I told you, my name is Kiibo! Not _Kiiboy_." He huffed out, before giving up the argument in favour of the topic of their top priority. He looked around once more, closing the classroom door as he stepped out of the doorway. "Where do you want to go first?"

"It's a _nickname_ , Kiiboy. Based on your name! It's a compliment- practically the highest honour! It means that I like you enough to spend energy thinking of a whole _additional_ name for you." Ouma whined, his explanation coming off as petulant above all else. Then, with a click of his tongue, he pulled his sceptre out from his belt and began idly spinning it as he gave an exaggerated sound of contemplation. "How about the basement? That's always the most suspicious part of any building!" He announced, stopping his sceptre spinning to be able to point dramatically at those gaudy stairs with it. "They could be hiding dead bodies down there for all we know!"

"Why would you assume that?! This is already a bad enough situation as it is, not including the possibility of finding dead bodies!" Kiibo exclaimed, sounding extremely scandalised. Ouma couldn't help but giggle at his overreaction to such an obvious joke, waving dismissively as he made his way over to the stairs. 

"You coming or not?" He threw over his shoulder as he began descending the stairs into the darkness below, absentmindedly swinging his sceptre back and forth as he did so. This time, he didn't waste any time waiting, assured that Kiibo would follow suit. It took him less than a second to yelp out a quick 'yes!' before hurrying after him.

The basement was dark, and considerably less overgrown than the upper floor. Instead, concrete surrounded them on all sides, only yielding to a few sparse patches of grass. Ouma spotted the oak double doors near the stairs and instantly made a beeline towards them.

"Don't you think you should be more cautious?" Kiibo called after him, pushing to keep up with Ouma's brisk pace. "We don't know anything about this place, it could be dangerous!" It was a sentiment that held a lot of logical sense, and was therefore a sentiment that he could respect. However, he also enjoyed being difficult, so he simply shrugged and smiled.

"If I die," He said, gripping the handle of one of the doors with his free hand. "then I die!" 

And without further ado, Ouma swung the door open, or at least did his best attempt to do so when taking the door's weight into account. The smell of old books instantly assaulted his senses, stirring something nostalgic in him that he didn't care for. The library was dimly lit, with lanterns positioned against the bookshelves. There were books everywhere - on the shelves, in heaps and stacks around the room. It felt unorganised, but lived in, which was still just as odd as the aged papers on the noticeboard. Among the variety of books stood a black globe, with turquoise outlines showing where countries and land stood. It was a cool globe, but didn't fit in with the rest of the room. There was a tall ladder against the middle bookshelf, the sliding kind that would be used to reach and navigate the top of the bookshelves. 

Ouma moved inside, aware of Kiibo quickly following behind him. For someone who wanted to be cautious, he seemed to have no issue blindly following him around. Maybe it was a robot thing? He wasn't concerned about himself, but more so about protecting the fragile human? Whatever it was, Ouma didn't dwell on it, more distracted by the figure of a teenage girl digging through some of the books in one of the multiple book piles. She didn't seem to want to start a conversation, but he knew she was watching them, even if her wavy bob hid her eyes from view. He could feel her gaze burning into his skin. 

Ouma retaliated by trying to force her into a conversation regardless, shifting to grip his sceptre in both hands as he smiled, outwardly friendly. "Oh, oh! Are you an Ultimate?" He bounced, watching carefully as the girl halted in her book investigation. He could see her fingers tighten around the one she was holding, but she didn't lift her gaze to expose her eyes. Ouma's own bangs hung low over his vision. He supposed he'd be a hypocrite for demanding otherwise of her. 

The silence continued for a few long moments, and forced Ouma to consider the possibility that this girl was mute. "I am." She finally said, voice quiet and flat. It was clear that she wasn't thrilled by the prospect of social interaction. The dreaded silence lapsed over them once more, as they waited for an introduction. Ouma wasn't kind enough to break it first.

"I am Kiibo, the Ultimate Robot. It's lovely to make your acquaintance!" Kiibo, however, was. His words were warm, welcoming in a way that was trying to prompt further discussion. Ouma could feel her gaze shift from him to the robot, hovering on his visible robotic traits. To his credit, Kiibo simply smiled politely back, though he assumed that was because he was used to staring. 

There was a distinct lack of an introduction following that, and Ouma sighed as he recognised what was happening. She wasn't going to say anything until he established who he was, huh? He dropped his sceptre with one hand, leaving the other to hold it so he could thump his fist against his chest. She wasn't getting a bow from him on top of his cheerful tone, not with the hoops they were jumping through just to have a basic conversation. "And I'm Ouma Kokichi, the Ultimate Youth Leader!"

He could tell that Kiibo was giving him a weird look out of the corner of his eye, but he was more focused on the girl finally looking up, hair falling away to reveal bright red eyes. They were intimidating by nature, but interestingly enough, despite her neutral expression, he could detect panic in those pools of red. It disappeared as soon as he blinked. She still didn't make any attempt to introduce herself. He groaned, motioning with his sceptre towards her. "Now's the part where you introduce yourself like a normal person."

She glared at him for the comment, before averting her eyes from the two of them entirely. "Harukawa Maki. Ultimate Child Caregiver." The first thing that registered in his mind was the fact that she was lying - it was like second nature for him to notice that. The second was that her attire didn't match up with her talent much, if at all. She was wearing black yoga pants and a large crimson hoodie, cinched at the waist by a leather corset belt. The casual clothes might make sense for someone working with children, but the colour choice and her general demeanor seemed to make her more intimidating than approachable. Then she was lying about her talent? What would be the reason for that?

"Ultimate Child Caregiver?" Kiibo repeated, sounding more thoughtful than surprised in Ouma's ears. Harukawa, however, seemed to take it the other way, huffing and letting her hair hide her face again as she flicked idly through the book she was holding.

"Surprised?" She asked, sounding mildly bitter. "I know I don't look like one. I don't even like kids all that much. But, for some reason, they always like me." Ouma's gaze darted around what he could see of her face, but from her tone recognised that she was telling the truth. How strange. He decided he didn't trust her. That said, he didn't trust most people. It would be more impressive if he _did_ trust her.

"I-I was just curious as to what being an Ultimate Child Caregiver would entail!" Kiibo argued belatedly, wringing his hands together as she gave him a disbelieving glance. "I apologise if my tone came across as otherwise, but I wholeheartedly believe that you must have been given your title for good reason!"

Harukawa sighed, setting the book in her hands back down on the pile. "Whatever." She turned away, shoving her hands into her pockets and pushing past the two of them to exit the room. Ouma opened his mouth to shoot some callous remark after her, but decided against it, as much as he wanted to. The two watched as the door creaked close.

As soon as it was fully shut, Kiibo turned to stare at Ouma with furrowed eyebrows. "Why did you do that?"

"Do what?" He replied, innocently fluttering his eyelashes in a way that wasn't, in any degree, convincing. He didn't want to genuinely avoid the conversation - rather, this was the best time to get it out of the way before Kiibo had a chance to sabotage him. 

Kiibo gave him a look of barely concealed frustration, gesturing at the door Harukawa had just exited through. "You introduced yourself as the Ultimate Youth Leader to Harukawa-san, but the Ultimate Supreme Leader to me." He paused, curling his fingers into fists as his arm fell back to his side. "You must be lying to someone, but why? What's your objective in doing so?"

Ouma hummed dismissively, turning to investigate the books on the shelves himself. There were a variety of languages available, most of which he could recognise, but not all. "Well, I _am_ the Ultimate Supreme Leader. That much is true." Like the hypocrite he was, he observed Kiibo through his bangs, mimicking the same behaviour he had found irritating in Harukawa. "But think about it, okay? 'Ultimate Supreme Leader' kinda gives off a bad first impression. Like you said, the first connection people will make is dictator! God complex! Or perhaps a liar, because what kind of talent is that?" He fidgeted with his sceptre, picking at the crowning orb as he spoke in a mocking tone, before chuckling. "No matter how true that may be, we don't know what kind of situation we're in, so I don't know if it's safe to have a bad reputation right off the bat, y'know?"

Kiibo quietly mulled over his explanation, before nodding slowly. "I suppose that does make some logical sense," Assuming that he had sufficiently convinced the robot to keep quiet about his talent, he began to wander further into the library. There didn't seem to be anything else of interest. "though there is one thing I don't understand. You said you lied because it may not be safe in this situation, but I can't comprehend a situation in which having a negative reputation would give you any advantage."

He giggled, shaking his head before tilting it so Kiibo could meet his eyes. "I like to get under people's skin. I like seeing what makes them tick, and what reactions I get. I'm sure you've already noticed that." Ouma sighed, pouting as he made a show of slumping. "That does get me a bit of a bad rep though. In a normal school setting, that's harmless, but here? Who knows."

"I don't think I-"

"It doesn't look like there's anything interesting here." Ouma announced, shutting down Kiibo's attempt at continuing the discussion as he approached the rear entrance of the library. "We should go check the other rooms in the basement! We don't know how long those freaky bears are going to give us for this whole exploration thing." Kiibo grimaced at the reminder of the Monokub's existence, hurrying to Ouma's side as he pushed the door open. There was a sliding door on the opposite side of the hallway, and a few steps allowed him to stand directly in front of it. "Anyway, why are you so concerned? Does my outfit not work with the title of Ultimate Youth Leader?"

"Well," Kiibo let out a heavy sigh, as if burdened with something. Ouma didn't blame him. He often had that effect on people. "I don't mean to offend you, but I think you look more like a deranged circus ringleader."

"Perfect!" Ouma shot him a bright smile over his shoulder as he holstered his sceptre, before using both of his hands to attempt opening the door. Kiibo seemed skeptical.

"...How is that perfect?"

"Because all young people are clowns! As a beloved youth leader, it would follow that I'm the ringleader to their clownery. And talent aside, doesn't the aesthetic suit me?" He said conversationally, as if he were talking about the weather and not potentially insulting an entire generation, only to taper off into a grunt. He gave the door a final push before relenting. "Damn. It's not even budging!"

Kiibo peered at the door over his shoulder. "I could try, if you'd like?"

Ouma stepped aside, waving Kiibo towards the door with a huff. The robot stepped forward, placing his hands on the door and pushing. He groaned, putting more pressure on the door, but only succeeded in opening it a crack. He stepped away, shaking his head. 

"Well, crap." Ouma sighed, running a hand through his hair only to ruffle his own bangs to keep his eyes partially hidden. "If a _robot_ can't force the door open, then it's definitely broken."

Kiibo glanced at him halfheartedly, before his gaze wandered down the hallway, towards the junction. "I think you have some serious misconceptions regarding my strength." He said simply, beginning to walk back to the stairs. Ouma recalled another door down the hall from the library and assumed the robot was going there, following after him with a slower pace than usual to avoid bumping into him. 

"Nah, I don't think so!" He chirped back, comfortably folding his arms behind his head. "You're made of metal, because you're a robot and all, so obviously you're stronger than some measly human."

Kiibo didn't respond until he placed his hand on the final room in the basement. Even then, he spoke in a mumble, as if he was hoping Ouma wouldn't hear. "I may be a robot, but I cannot perform superhuman feats. Please refrain from having unrealistic expectations." He opened the door and entered the room immediately, leaving him with no time to respond. He supposed that was for the best - Kiibo most likely did so to avoid being interrogated further, allowing the new area to distract him.

And damn him, it worked. Ouma followed him in, and his eyes lit up. "Is this a Game Room?!"

His excitement was genuine, though as he began to register the state of the room, it melted into mild disappointment. The floor was bright and multicoloured, like bowling alley carpet, but it was disrupted by roots bursting through. Again, he was no expert, but that didn't feel like it should be occurring, especially not naturally. There were game machines around the room, but most seemed to be unusable due to the roots, or for other reasons, like a fully shattered screen. Annoying, but not a huge loss overall. He hadn't been expecting the school to have a Game Room at all. 

"Looks like it. Strange, huh?" The deep voice startled Ouma, but he refused to let it show on his face. If he tensed for a moment, nobody would notice. His gaze landed on the third boy in the room, someone he hadn't noticed in his first survey of the room because he was leaning against the wall, among the shadows. That, and the fact that he was tiny. Ouma was well aware of his own short status and it had never once bothered him, but this guy couldn't have been taller than 4"! He was almost surprised he wasn't wearing things out of the kids section, though he supposed tailors existed for a reason. He didn't know how many tailors made leather jackets, but that was far from the point. "Out of all the places to be trapped, this isn't so bad. Cooler than prison, anyway."

"You've been to prison?" Kiibo gasped, his surprise genuine. Ouma had quickly realised that for a robot, he was rather straight-laced. It was almost funny. He was more concerned about his criminal record than the prospect that they were stuck here. "What for?"

Though, something about that statement seemed familiar. He squinted at the other as he seemed to hesitate in responding, trying to recall an Ultimate that had been to prison. Suddenly, it clicked, and he let out his own gasp. His was more out of a need to be dramatic, as opposed to surprise. "Oh! Oh! I know who you are! Hoshi Ryoma, Ultimate Tennis Pro, right?" He pointed his finger at the shorter boy as he offered an ecstatic smile, deciding that pulling his sceptre out would only ruin the flow of conversation. Then again, it's not like the conversation had a rhythm to begin with. "You single-handedly killed an entire mafia using your tennis skills and an iron ball, right? Right? I think I heard it on the radio a couple times!"

Kiibo let out another small sound of surprise at the new information - wow, for a robot, he really didn't know much - but Hoshi merely grunted, pulling his beanie down, over his eyes. The shift cast a shadow, making him seem a lot more intimidating. "It irritates me to hear you say that like it's an accomplishment. I only did it because I had nothing left." He admitted lowly, before averting his gaze. "And while that may be true on paper, I'm not really the Ultimate Tennis Pro anymore. Just the empty shell he left behind."

"Surely that isn't true!" Kiibo interjected, determination in his tone. Ouma assumed he was trying to be uplifting, but it fell flat when it was clear Hoshi didn't want encouragement. "You'll always be gifted with your talent and title, and even without them, there's always something to live for." 

Hoshi appeared to appreciate the effort, but otherwise didn't hear a word of what he said. "How can you be so sure?" He answered, and the robot faltered in his attempts to comfort him. He looked nervous, as if he would be judged for not knowing the answer. Ouma snickered at the thought, but decided to grant a little bit of mercy.

"He's just saying that you shouldn't throw away your future, or something like that." He clarified on his behalf, not missing Kiibo's apparent conflict between relief at having pressure lifted from him and offence at being talked over.

Hoshi huffed out a chuckle. "My future doesn't really matter much now." He rummaged through his jacket pockets, pulling out a pack of candy cigarettes. Ouma had never liked them, but he could see why someone like Hoshi would. "Just take it as a warning, if you want. I'm a convicted killer, so that automatically means I'm dangerous." He bit down on a cigarette, turning away from them to signify the end of the conversation before ambling to the door. 

Kiibo moved towards the sliding door at the other end of the room as Ouma pouted at Hoshi's departure. "Kiiboy, I'm getting the feeling that people don't like talking to me. That's two in a row that ran off without a real conversation." He sighed melodramatically, placing his hands on his hips. "It's so rude!"

"You must have noticed that you're not necessarily an approachable person." Kiibo mused back, not sparing him a glance. Ouma audibly gasped, pretending to faint despite knowing that the other wasn't paying attention to him.

"Kiibo, how could you?! After all we've been through-"

"On the other hand," He cut him off, and though Ouma was slightly annoyed with being denied a dramatic monologue, he skipped over to him to inspect the door himself. Much like most things in this room, it was fairly brightly coloured with orange and yellow. "Both Harukawa-san and Hoshi-kun seem to prefer their solitude so- Oh!" The door rattled as he tried to open, sharp clicks answering his attempts. Kiibo frowned, retracting his arm. "It's locked from this entrance, too."

Ouma chewed on his bottom lip, dipping his lower face into his scarf to hide the action. He exhaled heavily through his nose. "Guess they don't want us getting into this room, huh?" He straightened, fidgeting with his damned scarf and pulling it higher even though he _knew_ it was going to slip back down as soon as he made any continuous movement. "That's it for the basement, right? We should go search the upper floors."

Kiibo hummed in agreement. "Right. We've met two other Ultimates, so there should be twelve more within the premises." He turned and left the room, and Ouma was quick to overtake him. He really didn't want Kiibo to lead this investigation, if only because he knew his slower pace would begin bugging him if he did.

The two made their way back up those unnecessarily bright stairs and down the hall, passing the classroom they had woken up in without pause. Ouma was more focused on covering ground, a fact that was proven when he rounded into the hallway surrounding the inaccessible entrance hall and ran face first into someone. 

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" He snapped as he stumbled back, even though he knew the collision was entirely his fault. He was vaguely aware of Kiibo resting a hand on the small of his back to steady him, but the touch was so fleeting, he was tempted to write it off as imaginary.

"Ah, I'm sorry." The newcomer - a boy, he believed - had a soft voice that bordered on inaudible. This wouldn't be an issue if it wasn't paired with his appearance; his neat beige sweater vest and navy tie were overshadowed by the black trench coat that swamped his frame. His eyes were barely visible under his bangs and the shadow of the baseball cap he wore, a small ponytail escaping through the hole at the back. He may be polite enough, but something about him seemed suspicious. "I didn't see you."

Ouma snorted, placing one hand on his hip. "Obviously. How are you supposed to see anything with an emo hat like that on?" He said it playfully, even offering the boy a smile despite his reservations on the boy himself. Unfortunately, the joke seemed to fall flat, as he only flinched in response and reached up to pull said hat down further. Was it a comfort item, perhaps?

"Ignore him." Kiibo intervened, once again offering that welcoming smile, as if it would coax a conversation. He had shifted to stand beside Ouma as opposed to behind, clearly fed up with him leading conversations to dead ends. He couldn't blame him for that, at least. He was also irritated by the lack of results. "Are you another Ultimate?"

The boy seemed to relax, if only barely, at Kiibo's entrance to the conversation. Ouma would feel offended if it wasn't understandable - he had known the robot for a very short time, but he didn't seem to be any good at intimidation. "Well...I guess I am." His voice remained quiet, what he could see of his eyes focused on the wall beside them.

Ouma raised an eyebrow, wondering if everyone in this building was going to be antisocial. "You guess?" He snorted, leaning closer just to try and get a closer look at his face. The boy took a step back in response. Damn. He supposed it _was_ rather hypocritical of him.

The boy hesitated, awkwardly clearing his throat. "I'm...uh...Saihara Shuichi." He reached up to adjust his hat again, even though there was no need. "Technically, I'm the Ultimate Detective, but-"

"Oooh, you're a detective?!" Ouma gasped with a wide grin, instantly intrigued. Wasn't it bad practise for a detective to look so shady? Or maybe, that was the whole point. He clapped his hands together, lacing his fingers together as he rocked forward on his heels eagerly. "That's so cool! You must be suuuper busy, huh?"

"Not really, I um-" Saihara tried to respond, but this time Kiibo chimed in with a curious look in his gaze.

"I must admit, it's wonderful to meet with an Ultimate Detective. It's a rather interesting career- would you mind if I asked a few questions?" The robot smiled expectantly at him, and Ouma found it hilarious how he was simultaneously so thoughtful, and yet had such a severe inability to read the air. Saihara, on the other hand, was looking more and more flustered by the minute, and he frantically shook his hands in front of himself. 

"I-I'm sorry, but I'm not really a detective yet!" He said in a burst, fumbling over his words as if he were trying to get them out as quick as possible. "I'm only in training, so I'm probably not the best to answer any questions. Honestly, I don't really deserve the title but-" He paused, letting out a sigh as his shoulders lowered. Ouma didn't understand the need to differentiate. A detective in training was slightly less impressive, but he was still a detective nonetheless. Still an interesting character, compared to tennis and caretaking. "While you're here though, do you mind if I ask some questions?" Saihara's voice began to gain steadiness, sounding more serious. Ouma wanted to laugh - it contrasted his claims if he instantly began acting professional. That only proved that he _did_ deserve his title.

In fact, he did laugh, if only a light one. "Sure thing, Saihara-chan! Lemme guess, the first question is who are we?" He squinted one eye, grinning, though he powered on without waiting for a response. "Well! I am Ouma Kokichi, Ultimate Youth Leader." He puffed his chest out proudly, hands on his hips before gesturing towards Kiibo with an impish smile. "And this is Kiiboy, the Ultimate Robot!"

"Kiibo." Said robot corrected, sounding remarkably fed up for having only dealt with this for less than an hour. He shot Ouma an exasperated glance that was unblinkingly returned. "My name is Kiibo."

Saihara seemed to be thrown off kilter by the introductions, blinking slowly before lightly flushing with embarrassment. "It's- It's nice to meet you both, but that wasn't what I was going to ask." 

Kiibo made an attempt to apologise which was hastily dismissed by Saihara, contrasting Ouma's hurried gestures that carried the universel meaning of 'just get on with it'. The detective seemed uncertain for a brief moment, if only due to their conflicting reactions, but recovered quickly. Again, his gaze hardened and his voice grew in strength. "Do you know anything about this situation? Remember how you got here? Anything?"

Ouma hissed through his teeth, and Kiibo wilted beside him, disappointed by his inability to answer the questions. "Y'know, you could have asked us any other question and we _might_ have been able to answer." He tugged on his scarf, plastering a lopsided grin on his face. "But _that_ is one we can't help you with. We're still trying to figure this whole shebang out ourselves."

"Shebang?" Kiibo repeated quietly, his confusion sending another snicker into Ouma's scarf. He directed a small frown in Saihara's direction. "I apologise for being unable to be much help. I'm assuming you also have no information regarding our current situation, then?"

"I'm afraid not." Saihara rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, still refusing eye contact despite Ouma's subtle attempts. "I'm hoping to figure out some theories at the very least, by investigating the area, but we won't know anything for sure until we get evidence or direct information."

Kiibo nodded in understanding. "Well, good luck with that!" His words were all optimism, and prompted a weak smile from Saihara in response.

"Make sure to let us know if you find anything!" Ouma tacked onto the end of the conversation with a grin. Saihara nodded quickly, granting them a gentle wave goodbye before he hurried off towards the basement. 

"He seemed nice." Kiibo commented happily once Saihara was out of earshot and they began to walk again. Ouma scoffed, folding his hands behind his back. 

"Try sketchy." He muttered, more to himself than his companion. If Kiibo heard him, he didn't comment. The area around the entrance hall held nothing of interest, though they found a pair of bathrooms and another set of disgustingly pink stairs when making their way down the next hallway. He felt no need to look in the bathrooms, instead rounding the corner. Another standard hallway awaited him, the only vaguely interesting thing being the dusty blue booths sitting in an alcove at the end of the corridor. An eating area, it looked like. There must be a kitchen around here. However, as Ouma walked forward, he realised he had better things to focus on. Like the green haired boy standing down the corridor on the left, decorated hands on his hips as he looked around.

The boy noticed they were there belatedly, a friendly smile blooming on his face as he moved to meet them at the junction. "Hey there. You both look like you're doing well despite the situation, that's good." He let out a chuckle, before sobering somewhat. "Now, this may be a weird question, but were you two kidnapped too?"

"Oh, kidnapping! That _is_ a spicy theory for how we got here!" Ouma said excitedly, more so because they had finally encountered someone who was actively engaging in conversation. Kiibo tapped his chin, considering the suggestion. 

"It would make the most logical sense, considering the fact that we don't remember how we got here." He conceded with a light smile, glancing at Ouma questioningly. Ah right, they had never had a proper conversation regarding their collective knowledge. He had assumed Kiibo had known nothing because of how clueless he had been acting. He inclined his head downwards in a half nod, to avoid making it obvious. Not that making it obvious would be an issue - he doubted the new boy would care if they had consolidated their knowledge prior or not. 

"So you don't remember anything either?" The boy asked, though it wasn't really a question. He sighed, before adopting a sheepish smile. "Just like the rest of us, then. I've asked around, and it looks like all of us don't remember. It's like we all have amnesia or something!" 

"That can't be possible." Kiibo muttered, tugging at his gloves. "Or at the very least, it feels much too convenient to be coincidental." Ouma could agree with that. It was suspicious that nobody could remember getting here, but then again, this entire situation was getting increasingly suspicious the more they explored.

Not having anything of importance to add, he instead decided on a quick quip. "Yeah, I mean, even the robot can't remember, and he should be able to just pull something like that out of his hard drive!" That earned him a deadpan look from Kiibo, and he found himself wondering why Kiibo hadn't already ditched him.

"A robot?" The boy hummed, looking Kiibo up and down before cracking a grin. "I could've been fooled! You sound and look just like a human."

Kiibo flushed, and Ouma would swear up and down that stars lit up his eyes at the compliment. "Oh, thank you." He quickly gathered confidence, puffing his chest out with a proud smile. "It's to be expected. My creator was the leading authority in the field of robotics, and I'm the sum total of his work."

"That's pretty cool." The boy responded, and Ouma, tired of not knowing who this was, made the executive decision to take control of the conversation.

"Who are you, anyway?"

"Oh, yeah! I never told you my name, right?" He laughed, a warm sound. "It's not like I told you and then forgot? With all this memory trouble, I can't be sure. Anyway, I'm Amami Rantaro." He hesitated, folding his arms. "I can't quite remember my talent at the moment, but I know I'm some sort of Ultimate. I promise, I'm not a bad guy."

Ouma narrowed his eyes behind the safety of his bangs, but he couldn't detect any lies in Amami's tone or posture. He had always prided himself in his ability to tell when people were lying, so this should have been enough for him, but it didn't sit well with him. The idea that someone could forget their talent entirely- not to mention his calm demeanor. It didn't make much sense to him.

"You can't remember your talent?" Kiibo sounded mildly concerned. It was for the best that he was the one to bring that up, because Ouma knew he wouldn't have been able to resist sounding accusatory, if only to see if he could shake Amami's cool exterior. 

"Yeah." He confirmed with a sigh. "I understand that you might not believe me but-"

"It's not that we don't believe you," Ouma argued with a raised eyebrow, despite his original statement being accurate to his personal conflict. "I just don't get how you seem so unbothered by it, you know?"

"Is that weird?" Amami shrugged with a small smile. "I guess I'm okay with it because it means I get to figure out what sort of Ultimate I am. I suppose you could say I'm excited to rediscover myself." He chuckled, and Ouma watched his bangs fall further in front of his face. He seemed so genuine, but equally suspicious. He didn't trust him in the slightest. "Either way, I hope we'll be able to get along, since we'll probably be here for a while."

Kiibo hummed in agreement. "I agree, I hope we get along, but we can't be sure that we'll stay here for as long a time as you're suggesting."

"No, I think we will." Though the smile remained on his face, his eyes darkened and something about his expression shifted into unsettling. It was a reaction that interested Ouma, as well as providing a solid basis for his suspicions. Kiibo tensed beside him; he must have noticed the change too. Then, just as quickly, it faded back into friendliness. "Just a hunch I've got."

"Yes, well, it has been awfully nice to meet you, Amami-chan!" Ouma beamed, clasping his hands together. "But we're in the middle of exploring, so we gotta get back to that. See you later!" 

And with that, he offered a wave as he grabbed Kiibo by the wrist and began dragging him towards a set of doors across the hallway. A squeak of alarm caught in his throat, tapering off into begrudging grumbles as he allowed himself to be dragged into the room labelled as the dining hall. It was a plain, cream coloured room with a single dining table surrounded by metal chairs taking up the centre. On the far left, there was an opening that looked like it led to the kitchen. A glass door stood adjacent to the opening, familiar barbed wire barring entrance. There was a recurring pattern of possible exits being blocked, huh? On the left wall, a large fan was positioned, the blades spinning dutifully despite not seemingly having much purpose. Thin pipes ran along the top of the walls, near the ceiling, and like the hallways, the room was overrun with overgrowth. They said this place was built for them, but it shows signs of abandonment. It seemed less likely that it was built for them, and more like it was being renovated for them. By why go through all that effort just for sixteen students?

"HAIYAH!" He was forced to address the elephant of the room when it interrupted his train of thought. A girl stood nearby with a wide stance, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she yelled. She wore a blue sailor fuku, cropped around the stomach and paired with matching sweat pants instead of a pleated skirt. Ouma could easily guess that her talent must be something athletic as he approached to strike up conversation. He was hoping to surprise her, seeing as she was facing away from them.

Bad move on his part, because she spun around before he had the chance and missed hitting him upside the head by a hair. "Stay back, degenerate male!" She shouted at him as he hopped back to avoid any other attacks. She settled into a fighting stance, glaring at him. "I have Neo-Aikido to protect myself, and I'll throw you across the room if you come any closer."

Ouma exchanged a glance with Kiibo, who remained near the door, before deciding to test his luck. He grinned, taking a step forward. "Neo-Aikido? Is that your ta-"

His arm was grabbed and suddenly pain was exploding from his side as he collided with the floor, skidding slightly. "SHIT!" He cursed as he buried his face into his scarf to hide it, though he had to admit, he landed in one of the better positions. Though it would still hurt like hell, he had somehow avoided hitting his head.

"Ouma-kun!" Kiibo called, a hint of worry in his voice. He groaned, rubbing his shoulder as he heard the robot try to walk over. A few moments later, a gloved hand was offered to him. He slowly sat up and accepted the help while Kiibo spoke to the girl. "What was the point of that?"

"Sorry! But I did warn him!" To her credit, she did sound apologetic, and Ouma _had_ chosen to try and push her. That didn't stop him from groaning as he pulled himself back to his feet, Kiibo's hand slipping away as soon as he steadied. "My reflex when a degenerate gets too close to me is to throw him."

"I was just trying to ask if Neo-Aikido was your talent!" Ouma whined, shooting her an exaggerated pout as he crossed his arms. Satisfied with his own dramatics, he dropped his arms as his face became blank. The aching was already beginning to lessen, at least. "That _is_ your talent, right?"

She seemed to return to full energy at that. "That's right! I'm Chabashira Tenko, the Ultimate Aikido Master!" She modelled her fight stance once again, before punching upwards with a grin. "HIYAH!"

"It's...nice to meet you?" Kiibo tried lightly, while Ouma was distracted by noticing a fourth person. She was sitting at the dining table, head cushioned by her arms and dressed in a standard school uniform. The only discrepancies in her appearance was a witch hat and the fur trim on her blazer collar. 

"Hey, you're a robot, right?" Chabashira said after a few moments of silence, most likely taking in Kiibo's strange appearance. Ouma darted over to the table as Kiibo gave confirmation, leaning his hands to get a closer look at the other girl. She was...sleeping? With all the _shouting_? "Are you a degenerate male or a girl?"

He straightened up to watch the exchange, biting down a bark of laughter as he watched Kiibo blink slowly, processing the question. Chabashira was peering at his gakuren jacket with suspicion. "As I'm a robot, I technically don't have a gender." He explained carefully, aware of Chabashira's distaste towards the male gender.

She examined his face for a few seconds before concluding. "You're on thin ice, seeing as you're not _technically_ a degenerate." Kiibo flinched at her unintended jab at his humanity, but didn't argue with her, most likely to avoid the risk of being thrown across the room too. Ouma, meanwhile, refocused on the girl at the table. He might as well get a name before he bailed on the dining hall. 

He leaned over, poking her head and increasing in force with the lack of reaction. Chabashira, upon noticing what he was doing, protested. "Hey! Leave Yumeno-san alone, you degenerate!" She began to march over, Kiibo weakly trying to calm her before Ouma was able to inevitably provoke her any more. Thankfully, right on cue, the other girl - Yumeno - lifted her head with a sleepy grumble. 

"What do you want?" She asked with annoyance, words heavy with grogginess. Chabashira huffed unhappily in response, though she stopped a few metres away from Ouma, folding her arms. 

"Look, now you woke her up!" She said, or rather, scolded. Yumeno sat up, the front of her hat drooping over her face as she rubbed her eyes of sleep and let out a quiet yawn.

"If I had more MP, I'd curse you for that." It was meant to be a threat, he was sure, but all it did was make Ouma want to laugh. "Being stuck here is draining me, so I gotta rest to recharge myself."

"MP?" Kiibo piped up, gravitating to Ouma's left. Chabashira moved towards the seat on Yumeno's right and pulled the chair out to sit down, shooting Ouma distrusting looks. That didn't bother him - the feeling was mutual. 

Yumeno looked at Kiibo, scrunching up her nose before sinking into her seat. "Mana points. I use them whenever I use a spell, but my MP is too low right now to cast anything. Oh." She paused, before shifting up to look more confident, spreading her arms out in a showy gesture that was juxtapositioned by her tired expression. Chabashira looked like she was enthralled, despite presumably having heard this speech before. "Prepare to be amazed. Fall to your knees! I am Yumeno Himiko, the Ultimate Mage!" It sounded as exhausted as she looked, even with the sprinkle of bravado added in. 

Ouma wasn't particularly impressed, though he could appreciate her whole magic theme. It reminded him of RPG games, something he had always been fond of. He stole a glance at Kiibo to catch his reaction, and could see the gears turning in his head. He sniggered silently, wanting to allow the silence to stretch onwards just to see who would break it. 

It turned out to be Yumeno, which was a slight surprise. He had really been expecting Kiibo to do so with some sort of question. "Officially, I'm the Ultimate Magician." Her voice was quieter, as if she didn't want to admit. It was to be expected of a magician, he supposed. Showmen often held a capacity to deceive, and that especially would be true for an Ultimate.

"It's so cool that you have magic, Yumeno-san!" Chabashira gushed, the contrast between how she viewed the two genders glaringly obvious. Yumeno didn't react much to the compliment besides a small mumble of acknowledgement. 

"Magic?" Kiibo sounded perplexed, and Ouma could tell he was about to make an unfortunately crass remark. Amused by the entire conversation, despite the dull ache in his shoulder, he opted to let Kiibo continue. "You can't have magic. Magic isn't real."

"Nyeh," Yumeno pouted, glaring at the robot. Chabashira shot him a similar glare, albeit one that was less harsh. Kiibo seemed to lean back from the conversation, his confusion only mounting. "Magic _is_ real. I should know, because I'm a mage. I have to keep it a secret, and disguise it as tricks, but it's all real!"

"Yeah Kiiboy, don't you know that magic is real?" Ouma teased with a half grin, resting his chin on his palm and delighting in the vexed glare he received in response.

Yumeno sat straighter, tilting her hat up to get a better look at Ouma. "You believe in magic too?"

He cocked his head, examining her bored expression. There was an underlying hint of interest, or hope perhaps? A saccharine smile curled onto his face as he leaned forward, voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "Of course it exists! How else could you pull off all those awesome tricks? People always say there's some illusion or whatever behind it, but you can't explain pulling a rabbit out of a hat, or a ton of other magic tricks!"

Chabashira was watching him with increasing wariness, or otherwise seemed more agitated. He could feel Kiibo's concerned gaze drilling into the side of his head and found the fact that it was already a familiar feeling amusing. But more importantly, Yumeno slammed her hands on the table, her eyes lighting up behind the unbothered haze. "Exactly! That's what I say! But nobody ever believes me when I say I have magic!"

"I believe you!" Chabashira cut in, sounding near offended at the prospect of being misrepresented. Yumeno's gaze slid over to her, humming lowly. The two began a back and forth, something that sounded like it was centered around if Chabashira really believed in magic or not, but Ouma wasn't listening properly. He deemed that it was time to move on in their search, and now made for a good enough opening in the conversation as any. He folded his arms behind his head, rolling his shoulders to alleviate any remaining aches as he made a swift exit, with Kiibo on his tail. 

When they reentered the hallway, Amami was nowhere to be seen. Presumably, he had gone off to investigate for himself. It didn't matter to Ouma all that much - he was more interested in the two doors in front of him. One was labelled as a warehouse, and the other as the...school shop?

Ouma tilted his head from side to side, listening to his neck crack as he chose to approach the school store first. "Maan, Chabashira-chan really packs a punch!"

"You should really stop trying to provoke everyone we meet." Kiibo insisted, moving towards the warehouse doors and glancing around the dead end of the hallway, where more plants collected. Ouma tried to open the shop store, meeting the clicking sound of a lock in reward. 

"Geez, they don't want us going anywhere in this school!" He let out a long groan, letting go of the handle with emphasised disappointment. Kiibo looked like he was seconds away from correcting his dramatised statement, so he quickly added on as an afterthought. "Let's take a peek at this warehouse, then. No time to lose!" The robot rolled his eyes, but still opened the warehouse door and entered, spurred on by Ouma's ushering. He followed shortly after him. 

The warehouse was about as large as one would expect, with a high ceiling and rows of shelving units. Vines hung down from the beams above, as was standard for the school. Assorted items stocked the shelves, though none attracted his immediate attention. There was a space in between the shelving units, breaking up the pattern and leaving space for high jump bars and a stack of mats, apparently. There were other things too - hurdles, a container full of shot put balls and several...RC helicopters. Ouma perked up upon noticing that, slinking over to pick up one of the boxes. It wasn't something expected from a school warehouse, and he couldn't think of any good reason for them to be here, but he wasn't complaining.

He quietly turned the packaging over in his hands, inspecting the print advertising the product until he remembered that he hadn't come in here alone. He looked up to track where Kiibo was, finding him further down and approaching a girl he hadn't noticed earlier. She was rummaging through a shelf lined with chemicals and pills as she muttered incoherently to herself, strawberry blonde hair pulled into a messy bun.

Kiibo hesitated behind her, as if unsure how to get her attention, before smiling. "Hello!" She visibly jumped, whipping around with a growl on her tongue and undeniably pissed at being bothered.

"Don't fuckin' scare-!" Her threat tapered off into silence, the aggression in her expression dissolving as she openly stared at him. Her gaze slowly dragged over his frame, and Ouma felt uncomfortable just watching her examine him. "You an android or something?"

Kiibo brightened at the terminology, placing his hands on his waist as if showing himself off. "I am! Well, technically I am, but I usually go by the term robot as it correlates with my Ultimate talent." Ouma rolled his eyes, refocusing on the RC helicopter. He set it back down. Maybe if he remembered, he'd come back for one later. 

"Right, right. Ultimate Robot, huh? You seem pretty damn close to human." Even though he began to silently check out the other aisles, Ouma couldn't help but eavesdrop on the conversation. The girl sounded to be genuinely invested in Kiibo's existence, and knew a bit of specific terminology. Must have to do with her talent. 

"Thank you!" Just like when he received the compliment from Amami, he sounded elated. He must not be used to them. "My creator, Professor Iidabashi, installed in me a strong AI with the express purpose to emulate a human brain. I mature and develop just like any human does! For example, at the time of my creation, I knew nothing, like a baby." There was still nothing eye-catching on a majority of the shelves. 

"Iidabashi, huh? That's pretty impressive. Your build looks well made too." Ouma was going to give up on finding anything remotely interesting, when he spied a wheeled whiteboard down the last aisle. It was getting a bit harder to listen in on their conversation, but it was hearable thanks to their loud voices and the echo in the warehouse. He ran over to the whiteboard, looking around and finding a pack of whiteboard pens on a shelf nearby. Another thing he might need to remember to get later. "Hey, would you be up to letting me get a look at your inner workings? You're such an advanced piece of tech-"

"Wait, what? I barely even know you, and- and I wouldn't be comfortable letting anyone but a professional interact with my internal wiring!" Kiibo said, sounding borderline panicked. Ouma let out a quiet sigh and abandoned the whiteboard for the time being, circling back around the warehouse to catch the conversation before it went too far south.

"I'm more of a professional than any of the other plebs in this shithole." She argued back, her initial awe fading. "Don't you know who I am?"

There was a short pause, long enough for him to glimpse the two through the shelf. The girl had her arms folded across her chest, and Kiibo was fidgeting with his gloves. Nervous. Ouma began to sneak around to their side of the shelf. "Um...no?"

The girl huffed. "I'm the gorgeous girl genius who's good looks and golden brain will go down in history." Ouma tiptoed behind her, mockingly doing air quotation marks behind her back. Kiibo, upon noticing, gave him an unamused look, but he simply dropped his hands and let his face fall blank in response. "I'll change the world! The legendary Ultimate Inventor herself, Iruma Miu!"

"You look like a slut." Ouma said loudly, expression bored as he made his presence known. Iruma let out a choked shriek, head snapping towards him as her frantic eyes landed on him. A smug smile found its way to his face.

"You little shit!" She hissed, quickly recovering from her surprise to jab a finger in his direction, an arrogant smile breaching her features. "You were trying to look up my skirt, weren't you? You're short enough to do it with ease, fuckin' perv!" 

Kiibo, who had been attempting to reprimand Ouma for his harsh words and only succeeding in being background noise, fell silent, seemingly appalled at Iruma's retort. Ouma, on the other hand, simply raised an eyebrow, his own smile still intact. "Why would I do that? I have _standards_ , Iruma-chan!"

The reaction was instantaneous - she deflated, an embarrassed flush rising to her cheeks as a squeal escaped her, and it was plain to see she was mentally scrambling to recover. Kiibo, recognising a break in the conversation, was quick to swoop in before either of them could say anything more. "What were you looking for, anyway?"

Iruma took a few more seconds to respond, readjusting the goggles atop her head before seemingly having regained her pride. "Meds, obviously! Have you seen the shitty situation we're in?"

"Oh great, we're stuck here with a druggie." Ouma drawled, overplaying his nonchalance to annoy her. It was inevitably counteracted by Kiibo, who gasped as if he had been personally offended, face screwing up with determination.

"Iruma-san, you can't indulge in those kinds of substances! They are extremely bad for your health, and aside from that, won't help you at all in this situation!" He chided. He lacked intimidation in Ouma's eyes, but clearly not in Iruma's, as she flinched back and stared at him weakly.

"Shit! Sorry! I-I just wanna forget about all this, and it's not like there's anything here that'd let me _really_ trip my balls off. Just-" She exhaled, close to a whimper. Ouma was almost surprised by her duality and how clear cut it was. She was either one of the most egotistical people in the room or the complete opposite. "Are you done being mad at me?"

Kiibo, taken aback, was quick to raise his hands in a poor attempt to placate her. "Mad? I was never mad-"

"Whatever, we've got places to see and people to meet." Ouma made his voice louder to assert his own opinion, before smirking at Kiibo. "We might as well let her find what she needs to, y'know? We have no authority to stop her." And, having said his piece, he made a beeline out of the warehouse. He didn't wait for Kiibo, this time out of lack of care. He had seemed to get along decently well with Iruma, so if he chose to tag along with her instead, or stay behind to talk her out of finding some meds, he wouldn't be surprised. 

And yet, against all odds, he heard the creak of the door being reopened behind him and heavy footfalls follow. Kiibo caught up to him, saying nothing as he looked around the hallway. Ouma observed him for a few moments out of the corner of his eye, rest assured that the robot wouldn't notice. He hesitated. "Why are you still following me around? You seem super stressed around me." He phrased it lightly, even tugging his scarf downwards so his playful smile was sure to be on display. Kiibo didn't appear to be the best at reading between the lines, so it was safer to be blunt.

His surprise was palpable when he finally turned to look at Ouma, as if caught off guard. "Why-" Kiibo began, but decided against it with a small shake of his head, refocusing on the hallway as Ouma led them down the hallway, in the direction they hadn't explored. He gathered his thoughts, and began to speak with more determination. "I feel committed to experiencing this situation with you. Though you are indeed difficult to comprehend, you are not entirely bad company. I see no reason not to accompany you."

The words were unbearably genuine. Ouma found himself rendered speechless, unsure how to respond, at least not without risking vulnerability. Silence lapsed between them, broken by their footsteps. He couldn't understand how someone could be so honest - most people, unintentionally or not, lied within ten minutes of meeting someone new, but it had been over an hour and Kiibo hadn't expressed any dishonesty in his actions or words. Either he was a terribly good liar and managed to slip under his radar, or he was unable to lie. Considering he was a robot, both were viable options.

They passed a set of patterned black and white double doors, which they quickly established were unable to be opened. Ouma didn't react much except for a grumble to compliment Kiibo's sigh. Past that, the corridor led to a dead end lined with yellow benches, and metal double doors framed by more trees and wildflowers. Small lockers stood on either side of the hallway, and a quick glance confirmed that each was labelled with names, some familiar and some less so. Ouma found his own, gaze lingering on the nameplate before he turned to the double doors. He decided to hazard a guess as Kiibo placed a hand on the handle. "Gym?" 

"That would make sense." Unfortunately, it was locked, just like half the things in this academy, answering only with a soft click. Ouma released a short yell, hands curling into fists in frustration before he began to lead them both back the way they came, towards the stairs they had passed earlier. There didn't seem to be anything else for them to investigate, not that they could access.

"May I ask something?" Kiibo murmured as they reached the stairs, Ouma halting on the first step to look at him curiously. He grinned, shaking off his buzzing thoughts.

"Shoot."

"Why do you continue to provoke everyone, despite purposefully lying about your talent to preserve a good reputation?" It was a good question, Ouma could admit. He leaned against the bannister, slouching onto it as Kiibo tried to make eye contact. "I understand, to an extent, not wanting to advertise a title with inherently negative connotations, but you seem to be creating an unsatisfactory reputation for yourself regardless. Doesn't that negate the purpose of your lie?"

"Nope." He replied, popping the 'p'. He didn't lift his head from where it was bowed over the railing. "Because you see, Kiiboy, it's one thing to have a reputation for being a trickster, or a prankster, and it is a completely separate thing to have a reputation for calling yourself a dictator." He pushed himself off the bannister, flashing a smile at Kiibo, who seemed to be contemplating his words. "Besides! I can't suppress my _entire_ personality, can I?" He could, he simply felt no need to. Kiibo hummed in mild understanding and equal uncertainty, and Ouma took that as enough of a reply to warrant ascending the stairs and ending the conversation. 

The second floor was, unsurprisingly, similar to the first. There was nothing interesting to note upon first surveying the area, which narrowed into a hallway further down. Nothing, that is, aside from the copper dragon statue situated opposite the stairs. The dragon was coiled on the pedestal with a red orb trapped between its jaws, out of place in a supposed school setting. Stood in front of it was a girl, in a plain navy uniform and glasses. She would have looked forgettable if it wasn't for the vast variety of pins scattered across her blazer, all in some bright colour. Her skirt had kanji written around the hem, in neon thread and from what he could recognise, they all appeared to be quotes from different shows. It wasn't much, but it was just enough to make her noticeable.

"Hellooo!" He sang out, skipping over to her and leaning forward to peer at her face from the side. She didn't acknowledge him in the slightest, souring his mood. Great, another clam. 

Kiibo came to stand at his side, amused by his annoyance, which only worked to heighten it. "I'm Kiibo, the Ultimate Robot." He smiled politely at the girl, as was standard for almost every person he met. "It's nice to meet you." Despite his current success rate at calming people into conversation, the girl didn't react and Ouma stifled a giggle at his failure. 

"I'm Ouma Kokichi, the Ultimate Youth Leader." He offered, just to see if she would say anything after knowing who they are. Despite his fragile hopes, she remained unmoving, ignoring their presence. He huffed, stomping his foot in a purposefully childish display. Fine, two could play at that game. He stepped closer to the statue to inspect that instead, assessing the professional detailing. "Kinda weird to have a statue like this in a school of all places, isn't it?" He said offhandedly over his shoulder, directed to Kiibo.

Instead, a soft, high-pitched voice answered him. "It is, isn't it? I mean, this entire place is weird, right?" He turned to see the girl looking around, eyes furrowed in thought. "I can't find any exits, and there are plants everywhere. Do you think we'll be okay?" She bit her bottom lip, finally meeting his eyes. "It's plain to see that this place is suspicious. I don't want to say it, but…" 

She trailed off, and Kiibo, living up to his name, shook his head lightly. "I'm sure we'll be okay. Once we understand the situation, we'll be able to find a solution, and to do that, we must investigate." He encouraged, a bright smile paired with his words. 

"Yeah, I guess you're right!" She gave a small hum, nodding before returning his smile. "You sound just like a protagonist, you know? So inspiring!" She paused, before pulling a face. "Even if it was a bit cliché, most protagonists have a similar speech. I usually prefer protags with more variety, but you can't plainly deny that the determined, inspiring ones are a classic!"

Kiibo blinked, face blank and otherwise clearly lost. Ouma frowned, placing his hands on his hips and tapping his foot like an irritated teacher. " _Now_ you get chatty? You just ignored us when we tried to introduce ourselves and _now_ you want to talk? After I ever-so-graciously leave you alone?" He didn't try to stop his frustration from leaking into his words, and she smiled lightly, but not apologetically, back.

"Sorry," She didn't sound particularly sorry. "But I didn't feel like talking, so I kept quiet and hoped you'd walk away. But then you mentioned the statue, and I'm plainly curious about it, so now I do want to talk." She placed one hand on her hip, using her other hand to readjust her glasses. "As for introductions, my name is Shirogane Tsumugi. I'm the Ultimate Cosplayer!"

“Cosplay?” Kiibo questioned, tapping his chin in thought as if trying to recall the meaning. He gave up after a moment, sparing Shirogane an inquisitive glance. “What does that mean?”

Shirogane lit up at the question. "Oh! Cosplaying is the art of dressing up as characters from books, films or video games! It involves costume construction, wig styling, make-up - though I sort of specialise in the making of cosplays, I enjoy wearing them too." She rambled enthusiastically, clasping her hands together in front of her chest. She paused, expression turning bitter. "Some people cosplay real people, but I have a strict fictional characters only policy. I believe cosplaying is fundamentally based in fiction, so cosplaying _real_ people is unforgivable."

"Great, we didn't ask for your life story." Ouma groaned, waving a hand dismissively. Geez, she went from saying nothing, to saying everything! Though, seeing as Kiibo did have a point earlier, he decided he might as well try to be a bit more likeable. "I agree with you on the cosplaying real people thing, though. That's not cosplay, that's impersonation." He sighed dramatically, shoulders falling. Kiibo's judgemental, or perhaps observant, gaze tracked his movements but Ouma paid it no mind. He had already given him the opportunity to leave, and he was the one who denied it. "What's so great about pretending to be someone else anyway, when you can be an anime superhero?"

"Sorry, I can be a bit overly passionate when it comes to cosplay." Shirogane wore a vaguely embarrassed smile that didn't seem to reach her eyes. "But I'm glad someone else agrees! Not everyone thinks like us, and it's a plain hassle to explain to sponsors that I don't condone that kind of cosplay."

"Sponsors?" Kiibo seemed surprised, almost impressed, and Ouma found it to be something extremely mundane to be impressed by. At least, when compared to everything else they had already seen. "You sound like some sort of celebrity. I assume that's helped by your Ultimate title?"

Shirogane seemed to calm into boredom, folding her hands in front of her as she glanced to the side. "I guess so, yeah. It's not a huge deal though. I'm happy to share my creations, but people tend to just crowd around me like I'm some sort of zoo animal."

Kiibo seemed to see the shift in her demeanor as a bad reaction, because he was quick to backtrack, babbling. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you, I merely-"

"It's alright." She interrupted with a small smile, and though she was mostly indifferent, Ouma could sense some tension in her shoulders. Interesting. "You said we have to investigate to understand the situation, right? I don't think I've seen all of the first floor." Shirogane's smile grew larger and she nodded to herself. "I'll go take a look, and I'll let you two know if I find anything!" She hurried towards the stairs, not letting Kiibo get a word in edgewise. Ouma smiled into his scarf as the robot awkwardly gathered himself.

"I feel like I haven't been having much luck with these social interactions." He admitted reluctantly once Shirogane disappeared from view, tugging at his sleeves.

"Well, duh, you're a robot!" Ouma scoffed, entirely playful as he examined the archway of the nearby corridor. From what he could see, there were a few more doors down there. "You can't be expected to know how to interact with humans when you don't know how we feel."

"That's robophobic." Came the irritated response, but when Ouma looked at him over his shoulder, Kiibo looked more dejected than annoyed.

"Yeaah." He sighed. Damn the robot for making him like him. "If it makes you feel any better, I think Shirogane-chan is just intense. She probably felt like not talking again, that's all!"

"Ouma-kun, though I appreciate the effort, you shouldn't insult Shirogane-san for my benefit." Kiibo chided, though he had a shadow of a smile so Ouma considered it a win. He walked through the archway, the hallway opening up into a larger space, pillars in rows across the area further down. There were two doors on the wall in front of him, both labelled as classrooms, and turning around showed a mural of some sort on the wall behind. He paused, admiring the piece while simultaneously wondering why it was here, of all places. It was beautiful, a masterpiece consisting of pink stone roses embedded into the wall and painted leaves filling the gaps in between. Kiibo stopped beside him with a soft smile. "I will admit that the decoration of this academy, while unusual, is very pretty."

"Maybe." Ouma mumbled, before narrowing his eyes and pulling out his sceptre again to point at a space in the wall. "Seems broken though. Why's that, do you think?"

The robot's gaze followed the sceptre and he was silent for a moment. "Perhaps it's simply broken? As this building appears to be abandoned, minor damage to the walls would be unsurprising." No, the cut looked too clean to have been from damage, not when there was no sign of cracking. A better word would be...incomplete.

Despite his thoughts, he smiled and twirled his sceptre. "That makes sense! Now, let's take a look-see at these classrooms." He spun back around, motioning towards the doors with both hands. "This is taking too long, so we should split up. How abooout...you take C, and I take B?"

Kiibo agreed, and the two made their way to their respective doors. Ouma shifted his sceptre from one hand to the other, before opening the door with a bright grin. "Surprise!"

He hadn't necessarily been expecting the shriek he got in response, but he wasn't going to complain about a good reaction. The classroom was boring in appearance, near identical to the one they had woken up in apart for a few minor details. The source of the scream was a girl by the LCD screen, green instead of blue. Her blond hair was pulled into a ponytail with a treble clef hair pin, matching the sheet music on the fold of her shorts, worn over magenta tights. In fact, her entire outfit held musical elements, making her Ultimate easier to guss. She calmed from the shock of his arrival fairly quickly, offering a friendly smile as she fixed the strap of her backpack. He could see anxiousness beneath her brave face. "Uh, hello! Are you another Ultimate?"

"Sure am!" He said, refusing to elaborate any further. His grin widened as the girl seemed to grow restless. 

"Can you tell me who you are?" She asked, and Ouma knew that according to social norms, he should introduce himself now, as prompted. However, he enjoyed being a nuisance, and Kiibo wasn't here to force him into an introduction by being polite and introducing himself first. 

So instead, he leaned forward with eyes glimmering mischief, using his sceptre as a cane. "Nope. You first!" She was getting increasingly annoyed, he could tell, but outwardly let out a soft sigh. The door creaked open behind him, and though he didn't need to look to know it was Kiibo, he straightened up from his cocky position as he entered regardless.

"I wasn't able to get into classroom C. The door was locked." Kiibo informed him offhandedly, before focusing on the girl, waving with that usual smile of his. "Hello! It's nice to meet you."

"Hi!" Her underlying annoyance lightened. She stole a glance at Ouma, before nodding. "I'm Akamatsu Kaede. I'm the Ultimate Pianist! It's nice to meet you too." As he suspected; it was glaringly obvious from her clothes.

"I'm Kiibo, the Ultimate Robot." Akamatsu's eyes widened in surprise. 

"You're a robot? A real robot?"

"Yes, why?" Kiibo sounded more uncomfortable with the question than before, and Ouma wondered if his lack of success in communication since waking up here was making a larger impact on him than he thought. "Are you a robophobe too?" 

Ouma, being the wonderful person he is, decided to intercept the conversation before anyone got too uncomfortable without the cause being his lovely self. "Ouma Kokichi, Ultimate Youth Leader, at your service!" He tucked his sceptre away before giving a dramatic bow, successfully grabbing the attention of the other two. Akamatsu's head tilted, her confusion written on her face.

"Youth Leader? What does that mean?" Honestly, Ouma was shocked he had gotten this far without the question popping up. The title wasn't particularly clear, and for good reason. She perked up, having thought of something. "Oh! Are you a youth club leader? Or are you one of those youth leaders, who speak out and stuff to represent our generation?"

He let out an exaggerated hum of thought, even tapping his chin before a smug smile stretched across his face. "That's for me to know, and you to find out!" Akamatsu deflated, sighing with a note of begrudging acceptance.

"Okay then, another question. Do you remember, or know anything?" She asked, eyes hardened with determination. It was interesting how confident she could look when focused. "I woke up in that locker by myself, and those creepy bear things said there were sixteen Ultimates here, but I can't remember how I got here. Were we kidnapped?"

Ouma laughed, even though her questions were both good and justified. "Wow, you'd get along great with Amami-chan! He also suggested the kidnapping theory." Akamatsu looked at him questioningly, but like before, he refused to elaborate, simply grinning back. 

"We're not going to be much help, unfortunately." Kiibo added sheepishly. He did, however, elaborate for poor Akamatsu. "We don't remember anything, and according to Amami-kun, neither does anybody else. We've been unable to find anything of importance exploring, except for making acquaintances with the other Ultimates."

"I see." She mumbled, a pensive look crossing her face before she looked up encouragingly. "Maybe we're all just confused? We might remember something later, when we've all calmed down from the panic."

Ouma scoffed. "Are you kidding? All of us forgetting just because we're _confused_ would be too coincidental." He smiled mockingly. "I think your glasses are a bit too rose-tinted, Akamatsu-chan!"

"Your suggestion is rather unrealistic." Kiibo murmured, blunt but not unkindly. "From what I understand, our best way to proceed is to gain as much information as we can through investigation." Ouma noted how he sounded stronger, seemed more comfortable when giving advice based on what he knew as logical. "I would offer you to accompany us, but we've already explored most of this building, so it may be best for you to investigate at your own pace."

Akamatsu clasped her hands together with a smile. "That's a good idea! Maybe we could find an exit if we look hard enough!" Ouma couldn't understand how she was this optimistic. In theory, looking for an exit was a decent idea, but she seemed too convinced that they would be able to find one. They still didn't know all the details, and no matter how they got here, he doubted whoever was behind this would make it easy for them to leave. If you knew you were dealing with Ultimates, you would rather overestimate than underestimate them.

"Yeah, well, _I_ don't want you to join us anyway, so that works out!" He said, childishly sticking his tongue out at Akamatsu before giggling at her slight pout. "Juuust kidding! You could tag along if you want, but like Kiiboy said, we've kinda already done the rounds and you need to meet the others too."

"You're right about that. I've never met any other Ultimates before, but now there are fifteen here with me. I'd almost be excited if it wasn't under such scary circumstances." Akamatsu laughed lightly, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear. "I should get going, then. I've wasted enough time as it is!"

Motivated, she passed them to exit the room, waving goodbye as she did. The two returned her wave, Kiibo calling after her. "Good luck!" 

The classroom door closed, and they were alone once again.

"What do we do now?" Ouma groaned as he turned to Kiibo, rubbing his face. "We've investigated everywhere we can go, and we've still learnt nothing. It's basically just been a meet and greet."

"Maybe we should double check that we've been everywhere?" Kiibo suggested, and Ouma directed a glare at him from the shadow of his bangs. He wasn't keen on retracing his steps at this point. Kiibo must have recognised this, because he continued with reasoning. "There's supposed to be sixteen of us, right? We've only encountered nine, so we still need to find five." 

He exhaled heavily, but nodded. They hadn't found everyone, so it went without saying that there should be more places they could access. They made their way back to the first floor, passing Harukawa by the bathrooms. She didn't acknowledge them, eyes focused on where she was walking, so Ouma didn't acknowledge her in return. He had other things to pay attention to, like the lack of iron bars blocking them from the entrance hall.

"Oooh, that's new!" He beamed, breaking into a run and hearing Kiibo complain behind him. Someone must have opened the gate - the Monokubs, most likely. There wasn't much to note about the entrance hall itself, at least not anything that he hadn't already seen. The only exception was the large oak door - an intimidating figure that looked both heavy and suspiciously like it might be locked - and a tall, lanky boy lingering around the newly unlocked area. He had shoulder length hair and a relatively unremarkable uniform; dark green and of military style, paired with decorative silver embellishments. What stood out to Ouma were his fully bandaged hands and the white eyepatch settled over his right eye. Seriously, was there a tragic backstory behind that or something? 

"Hey, I like your eyepatch!" He called with a half grin, pointing at his own right eye. Kiibo approached the door as he did, looking it over carefully. He supposed he also realised that it was unlikely for escape to be easy, and had the same doubts about the openability of something as obvious as the front door as him.

The boy chuckled at the compliment, a sound that was unsettling to Ouma's ears. "Thank you." He lifted his hand to touch the eyepatch gently. "Yes, I am quite fond of it, myself." His single yellow eye flickered over to the door, where Kiibo was hesitantly placing a hand on the wood. "Don't worry, the door is more than safe. I have already examined it thoroughly."

Kiibo jolted, surprised at being addressed, and stepped away from the door entirely in the process. He turned his attention to the boy, lips pressed together in a thin line. "O-Oh, I see."

"You must be wondering who I am, are you not?" The boy seemed entertained, and while that was a sentiment Ouma could sympathise with, he didn't particularly like the general aura around him. "I am Shinguuji Korekiyo, and I'm known as the Ultimate Anthropologist."

Ouma, shockingly enough, found himself recognising the term, at least vaguely. "Oh! That's to do with studying humans and stuff, right?" He asked, bouncing on his feet and acting much more excited than he felt. Kiibo blinked at the display, taken aback by his sudden enthusiasm, and he felt his grin widening. 

Shinguuji cracked a smile, pleasantly surprised by Ouma's knowledge. "Indeed. Humanity, I believe, is a beautiful thing to study. There is beauty in all aspects of humanity, in both life and death." He sighed contentedly, eye closed as he appeared to be absorbed in his own thoughts. The longer he was in conversation with this guy, the more uncomfortable Ouma felt. He could hear Kiibo nervously shifting from foot to foot, though whether that was because of Shinguuji's disturbing and sudden fixation with humanity or the fact Kiibo wasn't human was anybody's guess. "This situation intrigues me. Of course, I hope for things to turn out well for us, but an opportunity to witness people in such a raw setting is rare, indeed."

Ouma clicked his tongue, before smiling as he folded his arms behind his back. "Wooow Shinguuji-chan, that sounds really creepy! Any other cool anthropology things you wanna share?"

"I'm aware that my desire to observe humanity may be unsettling to some." He replied calmly, and that knowledge made Ouma feel a mix of emotions. Relief, that he was self-aware, and suspicion as to why he would act so strangely if he knew it was disturbing. Then again, he could get that answer easily enough if he applied a similar question to himself. He, instead, abandoned that train of thought entirely. Shinguuji smiled again, though this one appeared more stiff; out of politeness as opposed to any real happiness. "However, I can assure you that my talent is not focused on merely observation. Anthropology is primarily the study of customs, legends, folk tales and songs, as well as many other things that fall under a similar category. To put it simply, my focus is on artifacts and origins of traditions more so than the observation of humanity as it currently is, though I can't deny that I enjoy having the opportunity to do so."

"How...interesting." Kiibo commented quietly, and Ouma had a feeling that he only said that to contribute to some degree. His fidgeting proved as much. 

"Yes," Shinguuji mused, and he was sure he could sense some pride in his posture. He paused, before giving a perfunctory nod towards the door. "but please, don't let me distract you from what you were doing. You seemed to be in quite a hurry."

"We really are." Ouma nodded gravely, before breaking character to laugh. "Okay, see ya later!" He motioned for Kiibo to follow him as he speedwalked to the door, grateful to be able to leave the interaction. There were a lot of odd characters here, it seemed, and while interesting, he didn't have enough information to figure out how to act. 

He was relatively shocked by the door being unlocked, and Kiibo was too, if the soft 'oh!' was any indication, but he didn't let that cause any hesitation. He pushed the door open and was momentarily blinded by the brightness of the sunshine as he stumbled out. A humid breeze caressed his skin, and he squinted up at the sky as his vision adjusted. All he could register was blue. There was no way it was that easy. No, he refused to get his hopes up. 

That was a good call, because as soon as his eyes adjusted, the first thing his mind registered was the dome above and around them. It looked like a cage was dropped directly on top of the academy, encasing everything within the school grounds and sticking out like a sore thumb. A sense of dread began to fester in his gut, but he firmly pushed it down. Fear was what they wanted; probably. 

Instead, he let out an impressed whistle, leaning back and tipping his head back to get a better look. There didn't seem to be any breaks in the structure. "That might be a tiny problem, huh?"

"W-What?" Kiibo sounded breathless, despite functionally being unable to. "Is that a wall? How- why?"

Ouma was going to throw out a sassy reply, but was denied the opportunity by five unfortunately familiar figures popping up. He had to suppress the urge to groan as they began their irritating rambling. Unfortunately, they seemed to have information scattered within their banter, so it was better to just focus on filtering through that. 

The main gist was that the dome was actually called _the End Wall_ , which was a very dramatic title but made some sort of sense in practise. It had no exits or entrances, couldn't be climbed or taken down - and, by the way, how were they so sure? You could demolish anything with enough force. 

Just to annoy them, he smirked behind his scarf and turned his back to them, facing the dome. "HELP! WE WERE KIDNAPPED!" He screamed out, as loud as he can, watching in satisfaction as the Monokubs flinched back at the sound. "HEY! HEEEY! HELP US!"

"Ouma-kun, if you keep yelling like that, you might lose your voice!" Kiibo warned, worry clear in his tone. He stopped his shouting almost instantly, turning back around to face the Monokubs with an innocent smile. It's not like he had expected it to work anyway, and he already got a fun reaction from them. 

Predictably, they took the chance to mention how nobody could hear them anyway and refused to elaborate further. They explained that the school was still 'under construction', pointing out the scaffolding along the building they just exited (though really, Ouma felt like this classed more as a renovation than a construction). They reiterated the importance of exploring, which was bullshit because the two of them had found a grand total of nothing helpful so far apart from what was directly told to them, and finally, _finally_ , left.

Ouma barely had a second to breathe after their departure before approaching footsteps drew his attention. "Hey!" A boy was running towards them, waving with a broad smile as his slippers slapped against the ground. He was wearing a jacket with cool galaxy lining, but only on one arm. The other side was draped over his shoulder like a cape and, in all honesty, he looked like he had rolled out of bed. Kiibo, receptive to any sort of positivity towards his person, happily waved back with a small smile. It was smaller than the other boy's, but it was a response compared to Ouma's silent staring in wait of a conversation. 

The newcomer didn't seem to mind the lack of reaction, grinning down at them. "Those bear things talk to you too?" He came to a stop in front of them, placing a hand on his waist as he looked up. "How did they even get that huge ass wall up, anyway?"

"They built it, obviously. Don't you know that walls have to be built?" Ouma asked mockingly, cocking his head with a sharp smile. The boy glared at him, his smile growing more forced as was often the effect he had on people. 

"You know that isn't what I meant." He huffed, before returning his eyes to the sky, adopting a tangible determination. Oh, _great_. "They said that nobody can get past it, but I know we'll be able to do it. Nothing's impossible if you put your mind to it!"

"That's-" Kiibo spoke up, sounding mildly frazzled. "That's not true. If something is impossible, then effort will not equate to a higher chance of succeeding." Ouma liked it when their trains of thoughts synced, because he had a habit of sounding a lot harsher than Kiibo did when presenting the same information. Case in point, the other boy merely shrugged him off with a chuckle. 

"That's only because you believe that to be true." His eyes were bright as he pointed upwards, looking every bit like a stereotypical superhero. "But _I_ believe we can overcome this! Something like this is nothing compared to the vastness of the universe! If I wanna conquer that, I gotta start here, and conquer this."

"The universe? Seriously?" Ouma snorted, in an attempt to poke at him, but it seemed he was too caught up in his inspirational speech to be offended. Or perhaps, he was ignoring him. That wouldn't be a huge surprise.

"Conquer the universe?" Kiibo asked, bewildered. "That's a rather unrealistic goal, isn't it?"

"Nah, because-" He paused, before laughing in mild embarrassment. "Oh right, I haven't introduced myself. My bad!" He squared his shoulders and puffed his chest out, pushing his fists together in a weird display of determination. "I'm Momota Kaito, Luminary of the Stars! As the Ultimate Astronaut, it's my goal to reach the stars and conquer the final frontier!" His words oozed bravado, but he was honest, if not largely exaggerative. It was rare for someone who was this self-confident to be genuine to boot.

"Ultimate Astronaut?" Kiibo repeated, brows knitted as he considered the title. "I wasn't aware that you were able to become an astronaut at such a young age."

"That's because he's old. I mean, have you seen his facial hair?" Ouma said in a stage whisper, leaning closer to Kiibo and moving his scarf to hide his mouth, knowing Momota could hear him perfectly.

"I can hear you, you know!" Momota grumbled, before breaking into a smile that was practically glowing with pride. "Yeah, usually you need a college degree, so I'm the first teenager to ever pass the exam!" Well, that only raised more questions.

"Reeally?" Ouma gasped, leaning forward to feign childish curiosity. Not to say he wasn't curious, but he had to attempt to make sure nobody completely hated him, and Momota seemed like the type who would enjoy the ego boost. "How did you get to take the exam then?"

As expected, he reacted well to the question. He chuckled, rubbing his nape. "Well, I had a friend who knew a bit of forgery, so I got him to make some counterfeits for me." It took Ouma by surprise. This guy was so open, admitting something like forgery within the first conversation, while simultaneously having the guts to lie to sit whatever exam astronauts had to take? He wasn't sure what to make of him, and therefore didn't trust him. That said, when did he trust anyone?

"So you got in based on false information?" Kiibo whispered, as if it were a huge scandal, eyebrows raised in mild horror. 

"Actually, I got found out. I was in pretty deep shit!" He huffed but his smile remained, dropping his hand from his neck. "Luckily, the higher ups thought I had potential, seeing as I aced the exam, so they let me in anyway. I'm only a trainee now, but it's still more progress than if I waited 'til after college. No way I can wait that long! My dreams wait for no one!" He spoke with such conviction, Ouma was highly tempted to try and contradict him. Sadly, he didn't get the chance, as Momota was quickly distracted by something behind them. "Oh, hey!" He waved, moving past Kiibo and Ouma and towards the school building, where Akamatsu was just exiting. She seemed to brighten at the greeting and wave back. He could imagine that the two of them would get along just fine. 

He took the break in social interaction to take a closer look at their surroundings. The path was made of brick, and inconsistently lined by metal fences, presumably to keep them off the grass, even though by taking four steps to the left, there'd be an opening to do so regardless. The grass that they weren’t supposed to walk on was mostly long and growing out of control, with matching wildflowers and trees amongst it. Like the building, it clearly wasn’t being maintained. There were several structures around the premises, but some were inaccessible due to large crates obstructing the path, so he elected to ignore them for the time being. He considered trying to move the crates, but they appeared to be too heavy, and he trusted neither his nor Kiibo’s strength to attempt it. Climbing over or cutting through the wildlife was an option too, but he decided to leave that as a plan for later. There was a large building to the right that was labelled in large white lettering as the dormitory, which was already indicative enough of how long they were supposed to be staying here for. Further down was a pergola, with purple wisterias decorating the upper beams of the wooden structure, hanging down. Even further down was a set of stairs heading downwards, to a lower area of the courtyard. From here, he couldn't see much apart from a building with a cage-like structure in the distance, eerily similar in style to the End Wall.

He sighed, sparing Kiibo a glance. "So, wanna check out the dorms first?"

Kiibo didn't respond for a moment, gaze lingering on the dome above them. He shook his head lightly to snap out of it, offering Ouma a weak smile. "That sounds like a good place to start." He seemed...anxious? He couldn't blame him. Everything was getting worse the more they looked. 

The dormitories were newly built, if the clean, baby blue exterior was any indication. It had a much more modern aesthetic compared to the main building, with frosted glass doors to increase the privacy of the building. Ouma threw a peek over his shoulder as he reached the doors to check Kiibo was following him, not that mattered, and entered without a second thought. 

The interior was aesthetically pleasing, but simple enough. The area was circular, short steps leading to a platform in the center. From there, two staircases lead up to two interior balconies on opposite sides of the building. Both floors had doors lining the walls. Sixteen in total, if he was going to be precise about it, each with a drawing above it. He scanned the drawings for his own room, quickly realising that it was segregated by gender; boys on one side, and girls on the other. His room was on the upper floor, on the far left when one stood directly in front of the stairs. One particular detail made a smile bloom on his face.

"Hey, look!" Ouma poked Kiibo in the shoulder, distracting him from looking over the area in contemplation. He subtly startled, shoulders tensing at the touch and gaze sliding over to him in silent question. Ouma grinned, pointing at his labelled door, as well as the door beside it. "We're neighbours! It's a small world, isn't it?"

A small smile graced his face. "No, but it is a nice coincidence." He faltered, growing somber. "Aside from the fact that this means they expect us to stay here for an extended period of time, if they went through the trouble of constructing individual rooms for each of us."

"I wonder what the objective of kidnapping us is." A gentle voice added, as a girl stepped out from where she was checking the door with her drawing on it, brows creased. She moved with a certain elegance, matching the aesthetic of her maid outfit. Ouma was pretty confident he could take a wild guess on what her talent was. "If it were for ransom, there would be no need for such a large facility. But if it isn't for ransom, then what reason would there be?"

"Oh, another vote for the kidnapping theory! That's a _real_ popular one, huh?" He hummed, placing a hand on his waist and tipping his head to the side. He could understand why that was the assumption people were jumping to. Hell, despite all his talk, he also felt it was the most likely explanation. "You think we're being held for ransom because we're Ultimates or something? Who would they want the money from? The government?" He snorted. "Fat chance."

"It might be possible." Kiibo added in consideration. "You may not think the government would pay a ransom, but perhaps our possible kidnappers do? After all, Ultimates are known as extremely talented individuals. Maybe they assume that the government wouldn't want to risk losing valuable assets like that."

The girl gave a short nod. "It's the only feasible explanation I can think of, though I doubt it is the real motive. Again, a facility of this size suggests otherwise." She was quiet for a moment before straightening with a polite smile, as if remembering something. "Pardon me, I haven't introduced myself. I am Tojo Kirumi, the Ultimate Maid. If you ever require my service, please don't hesitate to tell me." Ouma could have guessed that himself after taking one look at her outfit, but he digressed.

"Ultimate Maid?" Kiibo sounded as awed as he had with almost every other Ultimate they had met. How easy to impress was he? Was it just his curiosity? "What is it like to be a maid? You must have been employed by people of importance, with such a title."

Tojo folded her hands in front of her, and Ouma noticed that her back was perfectly straight. She looked like the ideal picture of a maid, which was to be expected from an Ultimate, of course. But she seemed... _too_ perfect to him. It caused his wariness to rise. "As a maid, my only desire is to serve others and be of use." She paused, before smiling and averting her eyes. "I have heard that I am known to complete any request given to me, but that is exaggerative. I simply do my utmost to make those around me happy."

"Just having that sort of reputation is amazing in itself." Kiibo pointed out, but Tojo modestly shook his head.

"It is still untrue. I have turned down requests before, as I would have been unable to complete them. My greatest failure would be to accept a request and be unable to see it through." She spoke with an even tone and a neutral expression. Ouma would applaud her if he didn't find that level of self-control dangerous. "Enough of that. More importantly, what do you plan to do in this situation?"

"What do we plan to do?" Ouma repeated questioningly, a hint of mockery in his voice, but not enough to be explicit. It wasn't anything new, but he didn't trust Tojo. 

"Yes. No matter what the situation is, it is my duty as a maid to fulfill the desires of others." She explained, brushing down her dress absentmindedly. "Therefore, whatever you wish to do in the face of this uncertainty and whatever you wish for me to do in response, I am inclined to agree." Ouma didn't like it. Didn't like her prioritisation of her pride over herself. It was a dangerous thing, to promise to complete every request received, and even more so to wholeheartedly obey complete strangers in a situation like this. And that aside, it was rare, if not impossible, to be _that_ selfless.

"Eh, we don't know yet." He replied casually instead, quick to make sure Kiibo couldn't say anything that might accidentally prompt her. "We're still trying to figure out a plan. That's why we're exploring in the first place, y'know? We'll have to get back to you on that one, Tojo-chan."

"I see." She commented, with a light smile. "I shall continue with my own exploration, then. As I said before, do not hesitate to ask me for assistance if and when you need me." Tojo gave them both a curt nod, which Kiibo returned and Ouma did not, before turning on her heel and walking to the double doors. 

Ouma began to follow her footsteps as she left the building, earning him a confused look from Kiibo. He grinned back at him. "It's not like there's anything to see here, unless you wanna try to get into the rooms." He paused, before his grin turned mischievous. "I know how to lockpick, if you wanna try breaking into anyone else's room, but there probably isn't going to be much there now."

"Lockpi-?!" The robot's shock was evident, but he faltered and let out a sigh. This was becoming a regular occurance. "No, no, we can't do that, and like you said, there isn't much point." He began to take long strides to meet him at the door. "Let's walk down to the stairs. There can't possibly be that much ground left to be explored, and we don't know how much time we have." Ouma laughed at his quick acceptance, opening the door for him and motioning for him to hurry up before skipping after him.

He surveyed the area as they descended the stairs, eyes automatically drawn to that building with a cage structure. He still had zero idea what it was, however he could now see that it melted into stone walls overrun by vines closer to the ground. A gravel path connected it to the rest of the courtyard; a large, circular area of brick lined by familiar, sporadic metal fences. An identical gravel path led away from the courtyard on the right, but was blocked by several large rocks. Seriously, they looked to be intentionally placed as opposed to the aftermath of some horrific rock related tragedy, and he could safely assume the Monokubs were behind it. To the left was what looked like a small ninja statue, with a painted mask. Ouma wasn't sure why it was there, or what purpose it may have, but he felt like it held the same aura as a garden gnome; vaguely unsettling despite being pretty much harmless. 

Once they reached the bottom of the stairs, he finally allowed himself to focus on the large figure standing at the edge of the pavement, looking out at the greenery. He turned at the sound of them approaching, allowing Ouma to process his appearance. First of all, this guy was _massive_. If Hoshi made them look like giants, he made them look like dwarves, well over six feet and muscular on top of that. Secondly, despite neatly wearing a full suit, he was barefoot, and Ouma had yet to formulate an opinion on that choice. Finally, he had sharp yellow eyes that somehow made him more frightening than his large frame did. 

A quick glance to Kiibo showed that he was hesitant to strike up conversation, much like how he was with Shinguji, so Ouma elected to take one for the team and pranced forward with a bright grin. "Hooowdy! How'd you do?"

The boy - supposedly, they were meant to be around the same age, right? - smiled back cheerfully. "Thank you! Gonta's doing good." The overly positive reaction was a bit low on Ouma's list of expectations, but welcomed. He assumed his name was Gonta then, and that he spoke in third person.

"Thank you?" Kiibo stopped a little behind him, but he seemed less nervous once Gonta began to speak. Admittedly, he was a lot less scary when he spoke, with a deep but warm voice and that innocent smile. 

"Gonta looks scary, so people don't like to talk to him." He explained, scratching his cheek as he looked away, self-conscious. "But you did! So Gonta must say thank you, like a gentleman would." He cheered up again, his words so genuinely happy they almost hurt. He sounded innocent and childlike despite his appearance - Ouma wondered if he fully understood the situation.

"Scary? You? You look more like a giant cuddly teddy bear." Ouma chuckled, folding his arms behind his head and speaking with scorn laced into his words despite really not meaning it. Funnily enough, neither of his companions seemed to notice the undertone. If anything, Gonta lit up at the comment, a happy blush dusting his face.

"R-Really? Thank you!" He looked down, visibly flustered before letting out a small gasp. "Oh! Gonta hasn't introduced himself yet." He smiled, tugging at the strap of his...was that a bug cage? "Gonta's name is Gokuhara Gonta, but you can call him Gonta. His talent is Ultimate Entomologist!" Ah. That explained the bug cage.

"That's the study of insects, right?" Kiibo asked as his gaze seemed to flicker to the bug cage too. Gonta appeared to grow even more excited, if it were even possible.

"Yes! Do you like bugs too? What's your favourite bug? What do you like about them?" He rambled off questions in a way that only made him seem more like a child, though unfortunately his excitement made his eyes gleam in a way that was undeniably terrifying. Ouma half expected Kiibo to become agitated again, but he seemed to be more preoccupied with answering Gonta's questions to notice.

"I'm not sure. I don't think I've seen enough bugs, or for long enough periods, to decide." Kiibo admitted quietly, and Ouma found it mildly hilarious, how seriously he was taking the questions. Naturally, it was then that he decided to butt in.

"He reaaally likes ground beetles! Especially for their shiny black colour. He thinks they look super cool." Ouma stated matter-of-factly, shooting Kiibo a smug grin when he jumped at his input.

"Wha-?!"

"I like caterpillars, personally." Ouma continued smoothly, talking over him as the lie escaped on instinct. He despised bugs in general, especially the wriggly ones, but hey, butterflies were cool, so it wasn't a _complete_ lie. "They look funky, and come in all different kinds of colours, y'know?"

"Oh, those are both good ones." Gonta muttered, nodding with sage approval. Kiibo shot him a wary glance out of his corner of his eye, but didn't refute his false statements when he recognised that they garnered a positive reaction. Gonta looked around, back out at the greenery like he had before they arrived, eyebrows knitting together. "Weird, though. Lots of plants and sunlight, but no bugs." His priorities sounded a bit out of order, if he was focusing on that instead of everything else that was happening. The question of if he fully understood the situation and its implications once again resurfaced in his mind. 

"Really? I'd assume this would be an optimal setting for insects." Kiibo replied, taking the moment to glance around himself. Ouma wasn't listening, distracted once again by the cage structure looming ominously in front of him, and the even larger dome trapping them all inside. He hummed, pulling his sceptre from his belt.

"Heeey, Gonta?" He piped up, halting Kiibo and Gonta's soft discussion on what could be the possible reasons for no insects inhabiting the area. He pointed his sceptre at the building in front of them, smiling sweetly. "Do you have any idea what's in there?"

Gonta turned around to see what Ouma was pointing at, before making a small sound of realisation. "Sorry, Gonta doesn't know." He replied apologetically. "He hasn't tried going in there. Gonta was too busy trying to find any traces of bugs."

Ouma sighed, but nodded as he holstered his sceptre. "Okie-dokie. No problem, Kiiboy and I will take a peek at it now." A cheeky grin bloomed on his face, and he tipped his head back to lock eyes with the robot. "Riiight, Kiiboy?"

Kiibo stared at him for several long seconds to communicate his exasperation, before yielding to a reluctant sigh, shrugging. "I suppose. We do need to examine as much of the area as possible, so it goes without saying that we would need to check there eventually."

Gonta nodded, with a small hum of understanding. "Okay! If you need Gonta for anything, come find him. Gonta is happy to help friends." And with one last bright smile, the entomologist began to make his way towards the stairs, no doubt to try and find bugs in the greenery on the upper level of the courtyard.

They watched him lumber away, and once he was halfway up the steps, Ouma sent Kiibo a dazzling smile. He turned to face the building of interest, clapping his hands together and beginning to make a beeline towards it. "Well, you heard me! Let's go!" Kiibo didn't respond, but he exuded a general aura of 'can you not let me have one proper conversation'. Hey, he had chosen to tag along!

The building in question was large, with the aforementioned cage structure and overgrown walls. It _also_ had imposing red doors, which Ouma didn't hesitate to open but equally wasn't shocked when it was difficult due to their weight. The area it led to was- well, he hadn't known what to expect anyway, but it felt a little out of left field regardless. 

The centerpiece was undeniably the large waterfall fountain that took up the space opposite the entrance, or maybe the layered pedestal directly in front of it. Either way, they both looked to be connected and made of a fine marble. Lining the edge of the area was a variety of pillars and large, elegant pots containing flowers in pink and red shades, paired with other greenery that overflowed from their containers. That said, they were clearly well kept and controlled. The entire area was a direct contrast from the rest of the school; maintained and organised. Why? Was it newly built, or was there another motive for only bothering to maintain one area of the school?

Conveniently enough, the final Ultimate left for them to meet was here too, fawning over the flowers. She was wearing a loose fitting shirt tucked into the belt of her shorts, though most of that was obscured by the thin yellow cardigan she had on over everything. What he could see of her arms was colourful, painted over with curling patterns and random brushstrokes. The girl perked up as the doors thumped shut behind Kiibo, looking over at them with a smile powered by the sun.

"Yah-hah! Heya!" She chittered in greeting, sounding remarkably like a bird on meth as she waved with all the energy of one. "I'm Yonaga Angie, and I'm the Ultimate Artist! Nice to meetcha!" Well, at least she was the only one with the decency to introduce herself before launching into conversation.

"Oh, an artist!" Kiibo said, sounding thrilled for a reason Ouma couldn't place or understand. He hurried past him to stand closer to Angie, most likely to avoid having a conversation by shouting halfway across the area. He followed, at a much more disinterested pace. "What kind of art do you specialise in?"

"I make all kinds of art!" Angie replied, her smile never wavering as she swung her arms back and forth, flapping her cardigan sleeves with the motion. "I paint paintings, sculpt sculptures and do drawings in lots of different mediums!" She paused, before linking her fingers together and holding them against her chest as her smile mellowed. It wasn't any less happy, rather, it was less intense. "But, of course, I'm not the one doing it. Atua makes the art, using my body as His vessel." Great. _Fantastic_. Okay, good thing to drop in a first conversation. She lit back up to that sunshine intensity, going back to swinging her arms back and forth. "Isn't it divine?"

"Atua?" Ouma repeated mockingly with a sharp grin hidden behind the safety of his scarf. He had stopped behind Kiibo, but he leaned forward to catch a glimpse of how he was handling the situation. Confused. Of course he was.

"Mhm!" She linked her fingers together again, this time behind her back, switching to rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. "Atua is the god of my island. His divine presence is always with me, speaking to and guiding me!" Her continuous cheerfulness was starting to grate on his nerves - who could genuinely be _that_ happy in a situation like this? Though he had excused Gonta's weird priorities as his lack of understanding, even he had _some_ level of concern surrounding the odd circumstances, even if it was because of bugs. "Oh, yes! That reminds me!" Angie pressed her hand to her cheek, looking at Ouma specifically in consideration. He stared right back, unblinkingly, just to see if it would shake her. It didn't. "Would you like to make an offering?"

He hissed through his teeth, before grinning. "Not really, but go oooon." He didn't move any closer from his spot behind Kiibo, and the robot in question seemed to find this strange because he reluctantly shifted to be behind _him_. It was probably under the assumption that he would prefer to be closer when he was talking to her, but as he didn't, he responded with a brief glare through his bangs.

Angie glanced to the side as she hummed in thought. "On my island, a truck comes to collect offerings every Monday and Wednesday. It isn't usually much, just a pint or two of blood. It doesn't at all!" Alright. He'd heard enough. He applauded her ability to say something that disturbing with such enthusiasm. Granted, he could easily do so himself, but not genuinely like she did.

"Sorry!" He said with a small pout, with a tone that sounded like it was meant to be apologetic, but came off as overly condescending. "I'm anemic, so I can't afford to give up my blood."

"Ah, I see, I see." Angie nodded in understanding, and for the first time since the conversation started, seemed to calm slightly. She tilted her head, attention shifting to Kiibo. "And you don't have any blood to offer, do you?"

Kiibo floundered, put on the spot by the sudden addressing. "Well, no, but offering your blood is dangerous, surely! If you drew too much blood, or if an accident occurred during the process, your life would be at risk."

"Don't worry! There have never been any accidents." Kiibo didn't look convinced, and Ouma didn't feel it. Her words _might_ have been soothing if they weren't weirdly peppy. And if she wasn't lying, of course, but it's not like Kiibo would be able to detect that. It was a strong lie, in the sense that Angie seemed to almost believe it herself, and as such, it almost sounded like the truth.

"If you want blood, you could ask Gonta!" Ouma suggested, eyes glimmering playfully as he decided to play agent of chaos for a moment. "He's super big so a pint or two shouldn't be a problem. Last I saw him, he was out in the courtyard!"

Kiibo reacted near instantly, tensing and whipping his head around to face him. "Ouma-kun!" He scolded, but was swiftly distracted by Angie's loud gasp. 

"Oh, what a wonderful idea! I'll go and find him right away!" She was back to maximum energy, a shining smile in place as she ran out of the area, pushing the door open with her shoulder and disappearing through the crack. Kiibo huffed, folding his arms across his chest as he stared at Ouma.

"Why would you do that to Gonta-kun?"

Ouma shrugged, waving dismissively. "Eh, he'll be fine. He might not even be in the courtyard anymore, y'know?" He raised an eyebrow, smiling. "She's probably asking everyone she meets for offerings any-"

The sound of humming static suddenly flared to life, and Ouma fell silent, his amused expression falling in tandem. His eyes darted around, landing on the monitor that had way more speakers than necessary above some of the flowers. They had been a recurring theme in almost all the places they had explored, but they had all been silent and off. Now, however, the screen flickered to life to display those five bears on a couch of sorts. The background was an assault to the eyes, all bright colours, but more disturbingly, cloth dolls that looked like them were strung up from the ceiling or discarded on the floor. A doll of Kiibo lay on the floor, with his legs propped up against the couch. A doll of Ouma-

A chill ran down his spine.

The doll that bore his resemblance dangled from the ceiling by the neck, the furthest to the left on screen.

He almost missed the announcement in light of that wonderful realisation, but Ouma wasn't _careless_ , contrary to popular opinion, so he caught it. Something about an opening ceremony and calling them all to the gym which only succeeded in making his unease rear its ugly head. The screen flickered to black. Well, there was at least one upside to all this.

"Looks like we'll finally get some answers!" He cheered even as he tightened the knot on his scarf and hiked it up so it would stay in place, in front of his mouth. He didn't know what would happen at the gym, but he didn't want anyone to see any reactions he didn't want them to. 

Kiibo, on the other hand, seemed hesitant, pulling at the hem of his jacket. "Do you think we should go, then?"

He rolled his eyes. "Well, duh! Everyone else is gonna go. Besides, what else are we supposed to do? We've been everywhere we can already."

Kiibo's gaze lingered on his face, as if trying to read him despite his scarf and bangs hiding him away. After a moment, he gave a small nod and the two began to walk. "You're right, I'm simply...worried." He whispered, well aware that Ouma could easily mock him in retaliation.

Instead, Ouma chewed on his bottom lip as they emerged in the courtyard, and thought about how all the lies in the world couldn't hide how his heart beat frantically in his chest and adrenaline buzzed in his veins. He stayed silent.

* * *

_The ability to delude yourself may be an important survival tool - Jane Wagner_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> author's notes 2: electric boogaloo (prepare for a tangent)
> 
> so I've been kind of sporadic with this fic idea for a while now. I first had it around this time last year, but dropped it fairly quickly and then continued to go back and forth for,,,the past year. That said, I decided to give it a go because I find the concept super interesting. I originally wanted to do a rewrite, but because I had no outrageous dislikes regarding canon, I had no idea where to start, so I thought that randomising the protag, mastermind and death order might give me some ideas. And give me ideas it did!
> 
> Writing from Ouma's POV is interesting because what is written depends on his focus and interest, which are both fickle things. The biggest example so far is the Monokubs, which had very little written dialogue because...honestly, he doesn't care to listen to everything they say. He filters out what's relevant and only that is what is mentioned.
> 
> On another note, you may have noticed that Kiibo is the support character and I wanna explain that a little. A big part of it is that they're already a package deal during the introductions to begin with, so it just makes sense to keep them in classroom A instead of shuffling everything around. I also genuinely believe they could have gotten along fairly well in canon if it wasn't for Ouma constantly provoking him but that's a whole other topic. At the base of it, they both have logic-centered thought processes, so I think they would naturally work in tandem if Ouma wasn't actively trying to make people hate him.
> 
> ALL THAT ASIDE, I need some help figuring out who Ouma spends free times with!! I want to leave it up to the collective audience, so leave a comment with who you want Ouma to spend free time with first and the winner will be decided through popularity or a lucky draw, if there's a tie. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, sorry for the long ass notes, and I'll see you next chapter!


	2. 1.1 : The Opening Ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ouma finally gets some sort of explanation as to what's going on. An explanation that isn't ideal, mind you, but hey, beggars can't be choosers.

**Chapter One : The Inner Workings of Survival Instincts**

* * *

They arrived at the gym last, Ouma leading them through the now unlocked metal doors.

It looked exactly like how you'd imagine. It was large, with a stage against one wall, framed by red curtains. There were two basketball hoops, opposite each other, with a matching scoreboard situated further into the gym. The only abnormality were the trees and overgrowth, but he had accepted that random greenery was a common occurrence in this weird school. The other fourteen Ultimates stood scattered around the gym, and while it was obvious that quite a few were engaged in conversation amongst themselves, most had turned to look at him as soon as he slammed the doors open.

Enjoying his own dramatics, Ouma flashed a bright grin as he marched himself through the room, stopping closest to the stage before turning to face everyone else. Kiibo, of course, had followed behind him, though he was a lot more open to the others. 

"Hello everyone!" The robot greeted, somewhat sheepish. Though his worry hadn't dissipated, he appeared to be cheered up by the presence of everyone else, no doubt feeling some sort of togetherness between them just by their shared confusion. Ouma wished he felt that himself, though he was always a bit too wary for that, especially right off the bat. "It seems like we've all gathered."

"Yeah! It's amazing to see us all here." Akamatsu replied with a cheery smile, standing near Momota. It seemed that the optimists were starting to rally together, which was either a great development or a terrible one. "Sixteen Ultimates; I hope we'll all be good friends!"

"Sure, but I'm more concerned about the reason we're here in the first place." Hoshi muttered gruffly, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. "None of us know, right? We're at the mercy of whoever trapped us in here."

Tojo nodded, a hand covering her mouth in thought. "Indeed. We should all remain alert. We don't know what could happen." Ouma could see Saihara mumbling something too, but his voice was too quiet for anyone to take notice, let alone hear.

"Whatever it is, it's probably gonna be a huge pain." Yumeno groaned, rubbing her eyes with one hand. She looked like she had just woken up, and considering that she had been asleep when they first met her, he was pretty sure that assumption was true. "I'm too tired for this."

"Oh, Yumeno-san!" Chabashira perked up, turning to her with an excited smile as she came to a realisation. "You have magic, right? Can't you help us by telling the future, or teleporting us out of here?!" He had to wonder if she was only saying this to encourage Yumeno into engaging in conversation, or if she truly believed in magic. He wasn't sure which possibility was worse.

Yumeno, however, didn't accept the compliment, lip curling as she tugged her hat down. "I said I was tired, so I don't have any MP." She sniffed. "Besides, magic isn't all-powerful." Chabashira flushed slightly in embarrassment, apologising hastily, but the magician had already turned away from her with a small pout. 

"Don't worry!" Angie chirped, clasping her hands together and still acting way too relaxed, with the situation in mind. "Atua will protect us! As long as we trust in Him, we will be safe." Ouma had to put in effort to stop himself from groaning. He could already tell that her Atua schtick was going to get old quickly.

"Well, I dunno about this Atua guy." Momota added, a hand on his hip and an expression that gave away his mild discomfort towards the god talk. In a split second, that discomfort faded, replaced with a positive grin. "But yeah, worrying won't do any good! If those bear things show up again, I'll kick their asses."

Ouma had never been one to be inspired by such blatantly empty promises, but clearly Gonta was, because he lit up at Gonta's proclamation. "Oh! Gonta agrees! Gonta will protect his new friends from danger with his body if he needs to." He smiled, all innocent friendliness.

"Friends? That's assuming a lot, isn't it?" Harukawa huffed. Ouma was surprised that she spoke in the first place, considering how opposed she was in the library. That said, she clearly wasn't thrilled about the conversation in the present either.

"Whaaat? Are you saying you look at us and _don't_ see potential friends?" Ouma gasped dramatically, which was an admittedly poor decision on his part, but he couldn't help himself! He liked prodding people, and even better, he got a sharp glare for his troubles.

Amami, also acknowledging that was an ill-advised move, held his hands up in a placating manner with a lopsided smile. "Hey now, let's just relax-"

"Does everyone hear that?" Shirogane interrupted with a small frown, looking around and hushing the room as everyone tried to hear what she did. "It sounds like something...industrial? Like out of a robot anime!" With the newly acquired silence, it was easy enough to hear a low rumble of mechanical parts, growing in volume.

Ouma turned to Kiibo to make a playful quip, but was suitably distracted by the five new, loud arrivals before he was able to get a word out. He wouldn't admit that he flinched back as five bipedal metal machines landed in front of the stage. It was easy enough to recognise that they were piloted by the Monokubs, partly because the machines were identical apart from colour, and partly because they appeared with a staticky chime of what was presumably their catchphrase.

_"Yoo-hoo! Rise and shine, ursine!"_

Geez, he _really_ hated these bears, and he barely knew them. 

Several shouts and screams of alarm rang through the gym, notably from Shirogane, Akamatsu, Chabashira and Momota. Gonta shifted into a defensive position, immediately attempting to usher the nearest person behind him, which happened to be Hoshi. Kiibo had stumbled a few steps back, leaving Ouma as the closest to the monsters, which was unfortunate, because his response to the situation was to blurt out the first thing that came to mind. "Wooow! Those things look so cool!"

"What are those things?" Momota rudely shouted over him, but Ouma was curious as well, and chose not to take offense. Harukawa raised an eyebrow, folding her arms over her chest.

"You said you'd kick their asses, right?" She deadpanned, and Momota's gaze flickered over to her, trying to hide how freaked out he was and failing miserably.

"The _bears_ , not whatever these monsters are!" He shot back, though he curled his hands into fists regardless, as if he planned to punch these huge chunks of metal looming over them. Ouma would pay money to see that, if he wasn't convinced that would end in Momota getting killed, which was not something he desperately wanted to see.

"These are called Exisals!" Came a voice from one of the newly named Exisals - the dark blue one. It was loud, but lacked clarity. "They're bipedal weapon platforms, with a whole lotta hometown pride." 

"Only us Monokubs can pilot 'em though, so don't be gettin' any ideas!" Another tacked on, a voice with some sort of accent coming from the yellow Exisal. 

"Who cares!" Iruma squawked, looking visibly panicked in contrast to her nonchalant words. "If you're gonna kill us, at least get the uggos first and save me for last. A gorgeous genius like myself can't afford to die!"

"But following your logic, Iruma-chan, you should be the first to die!" Ouma called out with a half hearted grin. It was partly to humiliate her, but also partly to distract from the situation. "After all, you're the ugliest one here!" He got the intended response, a gasp that bordered on shrieking. 

"Hey, hey, let's all calm down. We're probably not in any immediate danger. If they wanted to kill us, we'd already be dead." Amami interjected before anyone else could, though his tone was different. He was more serious, a glare in his eyes as opposed to the casual personality he previously displayed. His attention redirected to the Exisals, almost cold as he walked calmly towards them. 

"Amami-kun!" Kiibo called after him in a hushed tone, and the rest of the group seemed to share the sentiment. Most were watching him approach the machines with concern, as if he had gone insane. To be fair, the act would have seemed a bit suicidal if it wasn't for his earlier deduction. 

"I'm guessing there's something you want us to do, and those guns are back up if we refuse, huh? We'll get hurt if we don't listen." Amami spoke steadily, staring at the Exisals and ignoring the concealed worry buzzing behind him, among everyone else. "Well, now we're listening. What do you want from us?"

"We got a real wiseguy over here." The yellow Exisal laughed, but was quickly talked over by the blue Exisal, who was proving to be the loudest in an already unfortunately loud squad. 

"Alright, I'll kick this all off!" It sounded excited, which made Ouma much more nervous than he would ever care to admit. "Listen up! What we want you punkass bitches to do-"

It was cut off by giggling from the red Exisal, high, hyper and an all round unnerving sound. Ouma wanted to scream at it to shut up - finally, _finally,_ he was close to getting answers and they just had to procrastinate the point. However, he kept his composure, a blank face. "I'm so pumped! My heart is going a mile a minute!"

"Hell yeah!" The blue Exisal replied, shrieking and staticky. "We're talkin' about a-"

"KILLING-GAME." The green Exisal finished, sounding overly robotic compared to the others. This wasn't the best move, apparently, because it sparked a round of bickering among the Monokubs. Ouma, however, didn't care about that, more fixated on the new information. A killing game. A _death_ game. They were here for a- a what? A battle royale? A guaranteed death? Things had already been tense before, but shoehorning this into the situation made the danger more present. It wasn't silly paranoia anymore. It was potential life-or-death. Grateful for the cover of his bangs and scarf, Ouma took a moment to gauge the reactions of everyone else. Many seemed surprised or alarmed, which was understandable enough - two or three had tried to ask for confirmation on what they heard, which was given but wasn’t elaborated on. A few, like Harukawa, Shinguuji and Amami, seemed a tad too calm, though he supposed that from an outsider's perspective, so did he. Saihara, he couldn't tell - he had pulled his hat down low enough to hide his features in the shadow.

Soon enough, his attention was snapped back towards the Exisals, which were now more preoccupied by each other to pay much attention to the Ultimates. They seemed to be arguing. Ouma had missed the context, but he was sure it wasn't particularly important. Iruma, classy as ever, wrinkled her nose at the display. "W-What are they _doing_? Are they seriously gonna get it on in front of us?"

"I dunno about that, but it does look like they're fighting." Hoshi hummed, establishing the obvious. Or rather, the obvious for everyone except Iruma, apparently. Ouma was pretty sure she knew too, but played it off as an opportunity for a crude remark for...attention, perhaps?

"W-what should we do?" Chabashira asked nervously, looking around at everyone else. She wasn't in an attack position, but her tense muscles suggested she was ready to be. 

"Get out of here!" Kiibo exclaimed, and Ouma felt his hand on his forearm, tugging him away from the Exisals. He yielded, allowing the robot to put distance between them and the weapons. "If their fighting turns physical, we cannot afford to be in the crossfire. It would be danger-!"

_"Now, now, now."_

"Huh?" He breathed, aware of Kiibo pausing in his tugging as his fingers slowly slipped from his sleeve. The new voice was high pitched and grating like the Monokubs; it didn't take a genius to realise they must be connected. 

_"My precious cubs! You should knock off all this horrible fighting."_

Fuck. It was their _parent._ It must be in charge of all this, if the freaky kids had this much authority over them.

As if on cue, a collective gasp filtered from the Exisals, and out emerged the bears, hopping over to stand on the stage. They began clamoring amongst themselves, something about their dad and being excited by his arrival. As per usual, Ouma treated them as background noise, and soon enough, he was distracted by all the lights turning off. He squinted through the darkness, broken up by the soft green light of Kiibo's eyes. He could hear some nervous shuffling, but couldn't pinpoint where in the room it was from aside the fact that it was behind him. Someone must be afraid of the dark.

Luckily for them, they weren't in the dark for more than a few moments before the spotlights directed towards the stage's podium flickered on. From behind it, a monochrome bear sprung up and into the air. He was identical to the Monokubs in build, but noticeably larger with one side white and the other black. He floated downwards, out-of-place angel wings spread out behind it. Upon landing on the top of the podium, the wings fell off, proving them to be false.

"I am the god of this new world." He announced cheerfully, sounding exactly like some kind of twisted cartoon mascot. "The headmaster of the Ultimate Academy for Gifted Juveniles." Predictably, this thing _was_ in charge. At the very least, surely its arrival meant some exposition would be given. "The one, the only, Monokuma! Oh, it's good to be back!"

The Monokubs began chattering praise before any of them had the chance to respond, which wasn't helpful when he was starting to get restless with their continuous banter. At the very least, Monokuma seemed angry with their disruption as well, though that led to some unnecessary commotion that did nothing to answer any of his questions. So, like any good leader, Ouma chose to take things into his own hands, shifting his body sideways so he could look at the others as he jabbed a thumb in the direction of the stage. "Does anyone else understand what's going on or..?"

"Except for the fact that a new teddy bear showed up?" Momota responded awkwardly, welcoming the distraction from the bickering on stage the conversation provided. "Not really, dude."

"They all appear to be some sort of autonomous AI, similar to myself." Kiibo murmured, the hesitance in comparing himself to the bears obvious. Still, he was right - they seemed to have a mind of their own. 

"No matter what they are, they are more than unique." Shinguuji hissed, looking up at Monokuma with a darkened expression. "That thing- the aura of madness surrounding it does not bode well for us."

"Hey!" Monokuma shouted in retaliation, clearly refocusing to the issue at hand; the issue being them. "Show some respect! I'm your headmaster!"

"Nyeh...how can _you_ be the headmaster?" Yumeno grumbled, snarky despite the fact that she was half hiding behind Chabashira. "You're a stuffed bear."

"I think I'm more concerned about what you mentioned earlier." Shockingly enough, it was Saihara who brought this up. That in itself was unsurprising - Ouma was sure that if _he_ was restless with the lack of information, a detective definitely would be. The shock stemmed from the fact that his voice was loud enough to be heard, and strong, on top of that. "'Killing game', right? What do you mean by that?"

Monokuma didn't answer immediately, opting to giggle instead. Ouma didn't take kindly to that, and it seemed that neither did anyone else, because as soon as it became apparent that no proper response was being given, Shinguuji spoke up. "I don't believe Saihara-kun said anything funny. If anything, I think it was a good question."

"Yeah, yeah, it's just that it was dropped unceremoniously into the conversation earlier." The bear laughed, shaking his head in mild disappointment. "It makes this awkward. Takes away from the drama of the announcement." Ouma would argue that anything to do with death games tended to be shrouded in dread by nature, so any announcement would be dramatic regardless, but he kept that point to himself. "Ah well. In short, I want you Ultimate students to participate in a killing game!"

"Stop being silly!" Gonta cried back, visibly distressed by the situation. Ouma couldn't blame him. He felt pretty unhappy too. "A gentleman would never want to hurt anyone, especially not friends!"

Monokuma cocked his head in response. "So you don't want to participate? Is that what I'm hearing?"

"Yeah! We are never going to play a killing game!" Akamatsu yelled, fists curled at her sides and radiating determination. A murmur of agreement rippled through the group, and yet their blatant refusal didn't shake Monokuma in the slightest. Ouma could fairly confidently guess why.

"You've looked around the academy already, haven't you?" Monokuma snickered, sounding far too smug for his personal liking. Then again, he didn't personally like Monokuma at all. "You've seen that there are no exits. Nobody can hear you from in here, you can't get out on your own, and we have the Exisals on our side if you misbehave. In short, whether you live or die depends entirely on me, whether you like it or not!"

"What you mean to say is we have no choice in the matter." Tojo said briskly, a slight grimace on her face. "If we do not obey your whims, then we will be killed. The only way to have a chance at survival is to do as you say."

"Exactly!" Monokuma chittered, and Ouma thought that Shinguuji was probably onto something when he said the bear was mad. "And hey, big guy, let's get one thing straight." Gonta stiffened as he was directly addressed, the poor boy. "Nobody ever said you guys were friends. Nah, it's more accurate to say that you're all enemies out to kill each other!"

"Enemies?" Angie echoed, and while the frown on her face was more than understandable, it was slightly jarring after only seeing her be all smiles. However, she ultimately went ignored as the Monokubs decided now was the perfect time to start yammering praises again. Just like before, Monokuma's irritation was only mildly satisfying, and that satisfaction was overridden by the annoyance that came from the lack of answers. There was a palpable impatience in the air.

"Shut up." Harukawa finally snapped on behalf of all of them. She was blunter than most, which was a helpful trait in this very specific scenario. "If you want us to kill each other, then I assume you'll be providing us with weapons? It's not like we can beat each other to death." She paused, glancing at Gonta for a split second, who luckily didn't seem to notice. "Most of us, at least."

"Harukawa! What kind of question is that?" Momota exclaimed, sounding somewhat betrayed and very much shocked by what was arguably a decent question. She gave him a flat stare, but didn't say anything. 

Instead, it was Amami who shrugged nonchalantly on her behalf. "We need to know everything we can about this situation. It's probably best to get the uncomfortable questions out of the way first."

"Weapons? While it would be fun to watch, this isn't a feral fight to the death!" Monokuma huffed, as if annoyed by their ignorance despite being the sole reason they knew nothing to begin with. Ouma would argue that calling something a 'killing game' made it automatically sound like a feral fight to the death, but miraculously, he kept his mouth shut. "At the Ultimate Academy, our killing game is elegant! Sophisticated! Refined!"

This time, there wasn't any miracle present to stop Ouma from snorting in disbelief. He congratulated his past self for having the foresight to adjust his scarf to hide such reactions. Shirogane reacted similarly, if not more politely. "Refined?"

"You heard me!" Monokuma laughed. There was a building excitement among the Monokubs. "Because every murder is followed by a class trial." The implications of the name were obvious enough, but clarity never hurt anyone. Thankfully, they finally decided to explain something directly instead of waiting to be prompted for answers.

"Okay! Let us explain!" The red Monokub piped up- and yes, maybe Ouma should figure out their names, but he had better things to care about than what these things were called. As he spoke, the monitor to the side of the stage flickered on, to reveal a graphic of a Monokuma judge sat above a set of parallel podiums. On one side of the screen, identical girls filled the podiums, and on the other side, identical boys. "So, if one of you maggots kill someone, everyone will have to participate in a class trial."

"In a class trial, the blackened killer and their spotless classmates are against each other." The pink Monokub continued, wringing her paws together. 

"Youse all argue over who ya think the culprit is." Yellow said, adjusting his glasses. Why a bear had glasses, Ouma didn't know, but it wasn't of huge importance to him. "And at the end of the trial, it's Voting Time."

"If the majority of you punkass bitches vote correctly, then only the blackened will be punished! Oh yeah!" Blue shouted, far too loud and shrieking, but at least he got the information across. 

"After that, the rest of you just continue living. Congrats! You survived a class trial!" Red remarked. Okay, fine, so basically it was like any other standard trial, right? 

"But if you vote for the wrong person." Pink spoke again. Ouma's gaze flickered to the silent Green, wondering if they would speak again. It seemed unlikely. "Then the blackened will get away with the murder and everyone else will get p-punished." She stumbled on the last word, gagging as she did. If she was really so squeamish, one would wonder why she was assisting this killing game to begin with.

"The point is you can't just kill someone and expect to win like that." Monokuma concluded. "You gotta survive the class trial too!"

"It's quite easy to assume, but I shall ask for clarity." Shinguuji murmured, his tone calm but his tense shoulders giving away his apprehension. "What is this 'punishment' you speak of?"

"Oh, well, that's an easy question to answer." The bear tittered, voice gaining an excitement that felt threatening. "Basically, it's an execution!"

Ouma knew already, or at least, he had his assumptions from what they were saying and the overall tone. But hearing it being said so bluntly made it all the more real, and his blood ran cold. He was suddenly hyper aware of the beating of his heart in his chest. Just by being here, you ran the risk of dying, but killing someone to escape ran the same risk. There wasn't any way to get around that dilemma - though, he thought bitterly, that was probably the point. "W-What?" He heard Kiibo whisper from nearby, taking a breath to compose himself. 

So what? They had already established this was a death game, it's not like that was new information. It didn't matter if killers would get executed - they were _killers._ His morality cried as he stuffed his anxiety into a box and abandoned it at the back of his mind, to be forgotten. 

"If you commit a crime and get caught, you have to be punished! That's the most basic rule of society!" Monokuma's awful, screeching voice drew his attention once more. "This is a killing game, so it goes without saying that committing a crime with permanent results deserves a permanent punishment."

The Monokubs backed him up with commentary on how excited they were for the executions, how gory they were going to be. Perhaps it was inevitable that a blind optimist like Akamatsu would reach the end of her rope and shout up at them. "You're saying that like it's going to happen. I've already told you, I will never play your killing game, no matter what!"

"Akamatsu-san! Be careful!" Chabashira gasped, genuine concern shining from her features. Concern well placed, considering what Akamatsu did was a bold and idiotic move.

"No, no, her resistance is welcome. After all, no killing game is _really_ complete without some meaningless defiance!" Monokuma cackled, and Ouma noticed Akamatsu's subtle flinch. He noticed Momota and Chabashira clench their fists. He noticed Iruma folding her arms across her chest, slightly too tight to be casual. He noticed the tense shoulders, the guarded stances. He had already known it, but he noticed the true extent of the fear they were all feeling. And in a way, it only pushed him to hide his own. "Anyway, as your headmaster, it's my job to force you to play, no matter what _you_ want. The killing game is the only reason you're here, after all!"

It wasn't an answer he liked, but it was an answer nonetheless. They were getting somewhere; his brain latched onto that train of thought to distract from anything emotional.

"Only reason?" Gonta said in a tone that was close to a whimper. Ouma could imagine that he was overwhelmed with everything. Hell, _he_ was overwhelmed with everything, not mentioning anyone else!

"Well, I think we've explained enough." Ouma respectfully disagreed. "Let's kick this Killing School Semester off!" Monokuma's red eyes glowed crimson, unsettling and carrying bad omens. "You have free reign to kill whoever you want, however you want! You could stab, poison, suffocate, bludgeon or burn your victim to death. Better yet, get creative! Here at the Ultimate Academy for Gifted Juveniles, you will unlock your murderous potential!"

"Killing School Semester?" Amami muttered with a darkened gaze. "You're making it sound like a game."

"Duh, because it is a game. They've been referring to it as a killing _game_ the entire time." Ouma scoffed before he was able to stop himself, lip curling upwards. Amami sent him a mildly disappointed look, but he wasn't going to take back what he said. He wasn't wrong. 

"Game or not, I'm too good to be risking my life for bullshit like this!" Iruma sniffed pompously, even though the way she cradled herself betrayed her anxiety.

"Th-this can't really be happening, right?" Shirogane shuddered, bunching her skirt in her fists. "This has to be a lie. Things like this...don't happen in real life." It did all seem unbelievable, like something directly out of fiction. For sure, this was one of the last things Ouma had expected to happen to him.

"Too bad that it is happening!" Monokuma mocked. "Sixteen talented high schoolers, forced into a killing game and fighting to survive. It sure does get your heart pumping!" He broke out in hysterical, howling laughter, and it didn't take long for his cubs to follow. The sound echoed around the gym, and Ouma exhaled slowly as he hid his steely gaze behind his bangs. It seemed that their announcement was over, because the bears disappeared shortly afterwards, their grating giggles lingering in the air.

A thick silence settled over the group - or maybe they were a class - and Ouma took the moment to steal a glance at Kiibo. He was surprised to find the robot already looking at him. Upon noticing his gaze, Kiibo opened his mouth to say something, but was unable to get a word out before a loud alarm rang out, deafeningly loud amidst the silence. Ouma easily found the source of the sound to be his Monopad, and as he did, a ripple of identical chimes washed through the group. He turned on the tablet with a small frown. At least he now had confirmation that everyone had one, though he already assumed as much.

The screen lit up with the academy's logo and his name, before showing a screen with purple borders and a title that read 'regulations' in the top left corner. Text slowly began to appear, accompanied with little graphics. 

**1: Students must live at the Ultimate Academy for the remainder of their foreseeable future.**

**2: Once a murder occurs, all remaining students must participate in a class trial.**

> **i: If the blackened is exposed during the class trial, they alone will be executed.**
> 
> **ii: If the blackened is not exposed, all remaining students excepting the** **blackened will be executed.**
> 
> **iii: If the blackened survives the class trial, they will graduate and re-enter the outside world.**

**3: The killing game will continue until only two surviving students remain.**

**4: "Nighttime" is from 10pm to 8am. During this time, the dining hall and gymnasium are off-limits.**

**5: Violence towards Monokuma, the headmaster of the Ultimate Academy, is strictly prohibited.**

> **i: Monokuma will never directly commit a murder.**

**6: Your Monopads are very important items. Please do not damage them.**

**7: The body discovery announcement will play once three or more students discover a body.**

**8: With minimal restrictions, you are free to explore the campus at your own discretion.**

**9: Students who violate these rules will be immediately terminated by the Exisals.**

**(Note: The headmaster may add new regulations to this list at any time)**

The rules were fairly cut and dry, which was a small mercy in their circumstance. Basically, they were stuck here and had to listen to the freaky bears to survive. 

"So...they really are serious." Shirogane's tentative voice finally broke the silence surrounding them. She held her Monopad in a white knuckled grip.

"I don't understand." Tojo sighed, tucking her own Monopad away. Ouma did the same, and watched several others follow suit. "What could be the purpose for forcing us into a game like this?"

"Who cares! Like hell am I going to go along with this!" Momota's shout was full of determination and blind courage, glaring at his Monopad like it personally offended him. In a way, he supposed it had. 

"Please, calm yourself. There is no need to raise your voice." Shinguuji muttered, brushing his hair idly out of his face and looking oddly calm. "Your volume is ruining the atmosphere."

"Atmosphere? It's fuckin' depressing in here, is what it is!" Iruma spat, and Ouma noted she had started to relax her grip on herself. That said, she wasn't wrong. The air was heavy, and even if Momota's neverending positivity was annoying, it was a welcome change of pace.

He was quick to change his mind when Momota grit his teeth and growled. "I refuse to play along with this game!" Then, like a moron, he raised his Monopad into the air with the clear intent to smash it. Ouma's gaze flickered over to the Exisals near the stage, unmoving but still terrifying, before pulling his sceptre out with the intention of whacking some sense into Momota's head.

Kiibo beat him to it, with less physical reprehension. "Momota-kun, please! If you break that, you would go against school rules." He was waving his hands frantically, looking more than concerned.

Gonta nodded, eyes widened as he stepped closer, as if preparing to take the tablet from Momota himself. "The rules said that breaking rules would mean you-" He hesitated, most likely uncomfortable with saying the word aloud. It was an innocent way of thinking. 

Unfortunately, his hesitance gave Momota the perfect opportunity to continue his show of defiance. "I don't give a crap about the rules! I'm not doing what they want!" He reared his arm back-

"It's not about doing what they want or not." Saihara's voice was lacking in volume and steadiness once again, but there was something firm in his words. He didn't make eye contact. "It's too dangerous for us to defy him, especially not without a cohesive plan. Would you really be willing to give up your life for nothing?"

He must have been convincing enough, because Momota slowly began to lower the tablet. Of course, this had to be ruined by Iruma scoffing, glancing away. "Who cares if he does or not? Might as well let the dumbasses weed themselves out to make it easier for the rest of us." She was lying. 

"Who are you callin' a dumbass?!" 

"Hey, stop fighting!" Akamatsu intervened before Iruma could shoot some callous remark back, hands on her hips and a disappointed glare making her look like a big sister. "It's not going to get us anywhere."

"Yes, yes!" Angie cooed with a smile, clapping her hands together. Obviously, she had cheered up quickly. "Fighting is no good. We should all just try to be happy!" She pointed to her own bright expression with two fingers, as if that would encourage happiness from everyone else.

"How can anyone be happy in a place like this?" Chabashira yelped, perturbed as she shot Angie a skeptical look. "There's nothing good about being forced into a killing game!"

"You- you all just need to stay calm and rational, like me." Despite her grumbled words, Yumeno was trembling more than anyone else, standing hunched behind the aikido master. Either way, the conversation didn't seem to be getting anywhere, devolving into a pointless back and forth between uncertain teenagers. He twisted his hands around his sceptre, grip tight, before sighing as he saw Kiibo opening his mouth, most likely to refute Yumeno's claims. Frankly, he didn't want to go down that rabbit hole, knowing full well the tension would most likely escalate, and that was the last thing they all needed.

"Oh-kay, unless you have something useful to say, everyone shut up." He shifted to hold his sceptre in one hand, purposefully speaking louder to make sure he'd be heard over any inconsequential chatter. A few of his classmates began to protest - namely Momota and Iruma - but he didn't hesitate in brushing his bangs away to openly glare at them. "This conversation is stupid. Does anyone have anything good to contribute? Any ideas that are _actually_ helpful in our current situation?"

His blunt monotone must have been surprising, because he had rendered the others into silence. He raised a questioning eyebrow at the lack of response, to which Amami finally gave a verbal answer. "I guess we could try and look for an exit, first of all." He was rewarded by a small nod of approval from Ouma. That was the plan that made the most sense.

"Didn't we already establish that there are no exits?" Hoshi pointed out with a raised eyebrow of his own. "When I looked around the wall, there didn't look to be any openings and those bears confirmed that."

Kiibo's eyes lit up in realisation, literally, at his statement. "No, that doesn't make sense. There has to be some point of entry, because how else would we have been transported inside these walls in the first place?" 

"That is a good point. It's likely impossible that there is no opening at all." Tojo mumbled into her hand, positioned in front of her mouth in contemplation.

"Even so, where would we start looking?" Harukawa didn't seem to have much faith in the plan, her doubt tangible. He supposed he couldn't blame her. It was far from foolproof. "This campus isn't exactly small, and who knows how far we'd get before those things stopped us."

"All sixteen of us looked around, right?" Ouma hummed, gaze sliding steadily across the room to survey each of his companions. "It's pretty likely that at least _one_ of us found something that might help. Especially because while the campus is big, we couldn't access half of it." If bitterness seeped into his tone at the end of his sentence, he wouldn't admit it.

After a brief thinking period, Gonta furrowed his eyebrows as he hesitantly raised a hand. "Gonta isn't sure if this is important, but earlier, he found a manhole in the grass, behind the school building. Gonta saw a big underground passage when he peeked into the manhole, so that might help?" He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "It probably isn't that easy."

"No, that's perfect, Gonta-kun!" Akamatsu brightened, no doubt ecstatic that she had something to latch her determination onto. "The person behind this wants us to fight, so let's show them we'll never let that happen. We should work together to investigate this underground passage!"

Angie nodded along with enthusiasm. "Atua agrees! We should all check out this manhole together!"

Shirogane hummed in thought, a smile that held a hint of hope on her face. "Behind the school building? That's the boiler, right?"

Gonta seemed to be encouraged by the positive reaction, practically _radiating_ happiness at being able to help his new friends. "Yes- oh!" He gestured with a bright smile for everyone to follow him. "Let's go! Gonta can lead the way to the manhole." And with that, the entomologist made his way out, full of good intentions and reignited cheerfulness. 

The rest of the group filtered out after him, some more reluctantly than others, and Ouma waited for everyone to leave so he could bring up the rear of the group. He listened to the soft chatter among the others - he supposed any sense of normalcy was craved in a situation like this, even small talk - as Kiibo fell into step beside him. Trust or not, his presence had become familiar in a shockingly short amount of time, though perhaps that was because being a robot gave him a unique kind of presence.

"You took control of the situation so easily." Kiibo said quietly, a compliment edging on awe. Ouma scoffed as his scarf slid downwards, not bothering to fix it. If he was able to react calmly when being told he might die here, then he was confident his acting abilities wouldn't betray him any time soon.

"Yeah, 'cause I'm the Ultimate Leader." He wasn't saying anything suspicious, but he still spoke softer out of caution, taking the time to fix his sceptre to his belt. "I didn't get the title for no reason, y'know? I know how to conduct people."

Kiibo coloured with embarrassment, turning his head to face away from the other as they walked. "Well, yes, that makes sense. But, and please take no offense," He turned back to look at him, and Ouma met his gaze with amusement. His light smile was taunting him to continue. "you- you were so serious and collected. I simply hadn't expected that from you."

"We haven't known each other for very long. That just makes it sound like you made assumptions about my character." His words sounded chiding, if not hurt, but his large grin contradicted it. He swung his arms leisurely at his sides before using the momentum to swing them behind his head, folding them in a practised motion. "Don't worry, Kiiboy, I'm still energetic and playful, which are obviously your favourite traits of mine." He snickered at the tired side eye he received, before calming into a faint smile. "But I also know how to be a leader. For obvious and pre-established reasons."

"You are...difficult to comprehend." Kiibo admitted with a sigh, prompting a laugh from him. He liked it better that way, though he didn't say that out loud, and Kiibo didn't seem to expect a proper answer from him anyway. 

They circled around the school building to the back, where a salmon pink door stood, made of wood and battered with age. As it was a single door, there were a few moments where the congregation of teens had to funnel themselves down into single file, but soon enough, they were all in the boiler room. It was heavily overgrown, weeds peeking through the grid pattern of the rusted metal flooring and overgrowth crawling over the brick walls. Sunlight streamed in through the dirtied glass above, past old architecture and a ring of metal that hosted lights that weren't currently on. There were huge pipes and other contraptions, though Ouma paid them no mind, because this was still a boiler room first and foremost. Yet another monitor was hung from the wall, decked out with speakers like the others were. He assumed the unnecessary quantity of screens around the school was to ensure nobody missed an announcement from those creepy bears. 

"Looks like all sixteen of us are here." Amami mused with a brief nod towards Ouma and Kiibo, the closest to the door. He turned to Gonta with a small smile, folding his arms loosely. "So? Where's this manhole, Gonta?"

The boy in question looked around for a few moments, squinting through his glasses before lighting up. "Ah, here! In the grass!" He said excitedly, moving forward to point it out. There, nestled among the tall grass like he said, was a copper manhole cover buried into the ground. 

Iruma leaned forward to take a better look at it, hands on her hips. "An important hole in some bush? Sounds pretty familiar, am I right, ladies?" She cackled at her own joke, leaning back up and looking too proud of a vagina joke. 

"Shut up, Iruma-chan. You sound like an old, ugly pervert trying to be relatable." Ouma snapped, if only to see her squeal and wilt, which seemed to have a habit of making her less of a problem for a few minutes. Plus, her reaction to his sharp tongue was fun - to him, at least. Evidently enough, it was a source of discomfort for everyone else in the group, and he silently revelled in that knowledge.

"We should get moving. If this is something, then Monokuma will try and stop us, right?" Hoshi said, to bring focus back to the mission at hand. His concern was understandable, especially because the bears had expressed a desire to keep them there indefinitely. For a moment, he wondered if bringing all of them down here was a good idea - more of them here meant it was more likely for them to be detected, but hey, it's not like they asked for his opinion before they all started walking.

"Right!" Angie chimed, before leaning forward with her hands behind her back, pouting as she eyed the manhole cover. "Oh, but it looks so heavy! Can we even lift it?"

It was subtle, but Ouma noticed Kiibo shifting his feet and leaning forward, and knew he was going to volunteer to help. While the result would no doubt produce good mocking material, he chose to save him from embarrassing himself by slamming a hand over his mouth before he got a word out. He returned Kiibo's glare with an innocent smile, because really, he was doing him a favour here. Any attention their exchange might have drawn was displaced by Gonta moving forward to place his hand on the manhole cover. "Don't worry, Gonta was able to lift it when he looked earlier!"

That said, he smoothly plucked the cover up with one hand, lifting it into the air like it was nothing with a grunted 'whoopsie daisy'. The show of strength was, admittedly, impressive even though it was expected. Gonta didn't seem to be straining in the slightest, and he was pretty sure manhole covers were designed with the intention of being difficult to lift.

"So easily?" Harukawa murmured, and even her monotone voice held traces of surprise. Everyone else seemed to share the sentiment, if their expressions were anything to go by. They usually were. 

"It must be because of my magic! I gave him a boost." Yumeno added with questionable confidence. Ouma wondered if she defaulted to magic as a reason for things she couldn't understand. It would make some sense - people naturally felt more secure in understanding, even if it was fake, and she seemed like the jumpy sort despite her supposed apathy.

Gonta paused, looking around with a small frown as he awkwardly held the manhole cover aloft. Tojo, picking up on his hesitation, stepped forward at the opportunity to help. "Is everything alright, Gokuhara-kun?"

"Gonta doesn't know where to put the cover. It's very rude to litter, and Gonta wants to be a gentleman." 

Tojo smiled lightly, amused by his response. "Just set it down. I'm sure that doesn't count as littering. Be careful not to hit anyone." He continued to hesitate for a moment longer, before caving and tossing the cover aside. It easily travelled a few feet before landing on the ground with a metallic thump. Nevermind impressive, that much strength seemed borderline unrealistic!

"Dude! Are you sure you're just the Ultimate Entomologist?" Momota kicked the inevitable conversation off, and though his wording could have been better, it was still clearly a compliment to Gonta's strength. It was a statement of awe rather than a statement of mockery. 

"Indeed. With the strength you possess, you would surely be able to crush a child's skull easily." Shinguuji sounded like it was meant to be a compliment too, but he had an even poorer word choice than Momota. 

Gonta gasped, as if his words had genuinely upset him. From what Ouma knew of him, he wouldn't be surprised if it did. "What?! Gonta would never do such a thing!"

"What kind of freaky analogy is that anyway?" Chabashira retorted for justified reasons, hands held up defensively. The stance seemed to be second nature for her. "There are other, more normal ways to compliment someone's strength. You know that, right?"

"I'm sure Shinguuji didn't mean to be rude. I mean, he has got some pretty impressive strength." Amami chuckled sheepishly, quickly establishing his role as the peacekeeper of the group. It was ironic, Ouma thought, considering how weird the guy was.

His focus waned from the conversation, as his gaze fell to the manhole. From this angle, a few meters away, he could see a faded yellow ladder leading downwards into the abyss below. Standing nearby and leaning down to peer into it was Saihara, a thoughtful expression painted on what could be seen of his face. He didn't seem to be paying attention to the conversation among the others, so of course, Ouma had to speak up. "Well, Mr Detective? What do you think?"

Saihara flinched, gaze quickly darting up to him. Whether he was surprised that he was addressed or simply confused with his concentration broken was unclear, but either way, he was silent as everyone's eyes settled on him. His gaze returned to the manhole quickly, his voice barely audible. "About the, um, manhole? I'm- I'm not sure."

Ouma smiled, weaving through the crowd to get closer to the manhole itself. He took a glance down; the ladder was very tall, and if someone fell down, the height would probably kill them. However, the ladder itself seemed secure, and the steps were large enough to be of little concern. With that in mind, he ignored everyone else and sat down by the manhole, maneuvering onto the ladder. He suppressed a shiver; the air was colder, and moist. "Then what are we waiting for? Let's give it a look." He flashed a grin before beginning to descend, carefully at first and gaining speed as he went.

When he eventually reached the bottom, he didn't waste any time, backing away from the ladder so as not to be in the way. His classmates were slowly descending too, some on the ladder and others watching cautiously from the other side of the manhole, waiting for their turn. Ouma placed his hands on his hips, somewhat satisfied by the efficiency of their coordination, before moving his attention to the area itself. It was a large, cavernous area of cold stone and concrete. It was dim, the only source of light from the way they came. Large metal pipes ran across the area, and crane hooks were suspended from the ceiling, though they didn't seem to have much purpose. There wasn't much else, though perhaps that was to be expected from a cavern that was accessible by manhole, except for the large tunnel leading into darkness on the left and the gaudy monitor hanging nearby. Why a monitor was needed down here was beyond him.

Ouma had the common courtesy to wait until everyone was off the ladder before letting out a shout, listening to the resulting echo with mild interest and ignoring the small jolts from the others. The echo lasted for a decent amount of time, suggesting that the area was big. It was irritating, considering they were going to have to search said area themselves, but better than a complete dead end. He waited impatiently for everyone to process their surroundings until finally, Shinguuji shared his thoughts. "It appears to be some sort of industrial passageway. Perhaps the academy is a repurposed factory? Or rather, was built upon the remains of a factory?"

"That might be possible, but I don't see why that matters to us." Harukawa sighed, shaking her head. She looked bored by the situation, and Ouma had to wonder why all of them were going along with this plan when some of them didn't seem interested. "Having that knowledge doesn't help us find an exit, does it?"

"Oh! Look at this sign!" Gonta's face was alight with joy, and Ouma had a sinking feeling that it wouldn't last as he glanced at what the boy had spotted. A wooden sign set up at the mouth of the tunnel, pointing inwards and reading in black paint: 'exit'. "It says this way is the exit! How helpful!"

"I don't know. I'm not sure how trustworthy a sign like that is. Monokuma or the cubs might be responsible." Kiibo mused, eyeing the tunnel with some level of apprehension. Ouma, despite hating the idea of feeling genuine fear, couldn't help but share the sentiment. Then again, in a life or death scenario, everyone must feel apprehensive, right?

"No shit they're responsible! Who else would it be?" Iruma muttered disdainfully, wrinkling her nose at the gaping mouth of the tunnel. 

"We might as well give it a shot!" Akamatsu, as expected, smiled encouragingly. Ouma was sure a pep talk was swiftly approaching. "It's the best lead we have, and it's better than just sitting here and doing nothing. We just need to work together as friends and push through." It sounded too cliche, too cookie cutter perfect, but even so, her words inspired a wave of positivity among her peers. 

"Friends?" Chabashira echoed, and he pretended not to see her flustered expression.

"Yeah, friends!" Akamatsu's eyes were shining with something cheerful and genuine. "I mentioned it earlier. The person behind all this wants us to be enemies, and kill each other, so we've gotta prove them wrong by being friends, and working together to escape."

"Well said, Akamatsu! I was gonna say the same thing!" Ouma bit down a snort. Momota was bluffing, but the support was obviously well intentioned. 

Funnily enough, Shirogane also nodded along in support. "The way you said that was so inspirational, even though it's a bit stereotypical!" Her input was unhelpful, but surprisingly passionate. If Akamatsu's positivity really helped motivate her that much, he guessed it wasn't _too_ bad.

"It sounds like a lotta work, but I guess it wouldn't hurt to try." Yumeno mumbled with the faintest smile. He assumed this was as enthusiastic as she got outside of magic. "You won't be able to rely on my magic, though. This place is still draining my MP super fast."

"It's as good of an opportunity as any, I suppose." Kiibo conceded, not sounding very convinced. Even so, he gave a determined nod after a moment of thought and squared his shoulders. 

Tojo inclined her head towards the tunnel in question, squinting slightly to see further into the darkness, perhaps to consider what was ahead. She nodded, either satisfied with what she found or giving up. "If everyone else wishes to attempt exploration, I will happily follow."

A quick survey of the room and Ouma came to the conclusion that everyone was relatively on board with the game plan. Everyone except Saihara and Harukawa, maybe, both of whom weren't expressing much enthusiasm, but equally weren't expressing any disapproval. So, mind made up, he grinned and motioned forward. "Well, let's march! Quick, before someone tries to stop us!"

They all swarmed down the tunnel, though as it began to narrow, the crowd was forced to gradually thin. Ouma was leading, right at the front, a position he was confident in but not comfortable with, all the uncertainty considered.

And then- well, honestly, the trip down the tunnel quickly grew hectic. The constant buzz of electricity suddenly flared once they passed a certain point - more specifically, after they had collectively managed to open the first gate, which was suspiciously unlocked - and from then onwards, he was kind of distracted by the appearance of _traps_ . It was a dirty move, but fully understandable, if the exit really _was_ at the end of this tunnel. That train of thought ended fairly abruptly once he found himself losing balance (what the _fuck_ was that flying towards him at an alarming speed? _)_ and promptly passing out before he could gather his bearings.

When he woke up, he was laying on the uncomfortable ground where they started, under the manhole. He cracked an eye open before groaning in frustration, throwing an arm over his face. 

"Oh! You're awake!" The voice was too high pitched for his lagging brain, but at the very least, the pitch made it easy to identify as Shirogane. The background noise - conversation among his classmates, no doubt - softened, but it didn't fully cease. "Are you okay?"

"No, I'm still asleep." He drawled sarcastically, arm keeping his eyes hidden and deliberately ignoring her question. His lips tugged into a lazy smile. "I have a terrible habit of talking in my sleep, y'know. It's really annoying." 

"Ouma-kun!" He could hear the creak of metal as Kiibo presumably knelt down beside his head. "You fell unconscious. A lot of the others fell unconscious too - I think you were overwhelmed. We weren't able to make it much further than you until we decided the best course of action would be to turn back."

He shifted his arm, blinking slowly at the robot hovering above him as his words caused a suffocating silence to settle over the group. Ouma exhaled, not responding as he pulled himself into a sitting position and looked around. Everyone sat around the area, with Kiibo at his direct left and Shirogane sat closest to his right. It seemed like he was the last one up, which wasn't ideal, but whatever. He was surprised the atmosphere was so heavy; he would have assumed one of the optimists would have stepped up to the task of cheering everyone up, but it looked like that wasn't the case. 

"What kind of pathetic pity party are you kids throwing yourselves now?"

Monokuma and the cubs seemed to materialise out of nowhere, as per usual. There must be hidden tunnels for them or something, for them to be able to continuously pop out of nowhere like that. The cubs were talking, something about how dirty the place was and how tired they looked, and while that was true, Ouma paid them no mind as he hauled himself to his feet. Around him, the others did the same with varying levels of urgency. It was Hoshi who responded, though that was a loose term. He wasn't addressing the bears. "So they did notice."

Monokuma scoffed, arms crossed. "Of course I noticed! I've noticed from the beginning. What kind of headmaster would I be if I didn't keep track of where my _precious_ students were?" He doubted he was really a headmaster anyway, but he kept that to himself. More importantly, his words suggested that they were being monitored round the clock. Hidden cameras, or some other form of surveillance? He made a note to check the monitors that were everywhere at some point. 

"You knew and you didn't stop us?" Harukawa glared at the bear, hands balled into fists. "Then that proves it was a trap, right?"

"Perhaps," Shinguuji's expression was odd; if Ouma didn't know any better, he'd peg it as disgust. Irritation, maybe, but that descriptor seemed too weak. "There is no exit at all, and they simply enjoy watching us squirm towards a nonexistent goal. It certainly seems likely from creatures that wish for homicide to occur, for seemingly their own entertainment."

"There _is_ an exit. You guys just haven't been able to get to it yet." The pink Monokub sighed, and as if prompted, Red perked up from where he was standing beside her.

"Yeah! But hey, if you work together, you might be able to do it!" The sudden positivity and support was one of the most flimsiest lies Ouma had ever heard. It went without saying that this had to be part of a manipulation tactic. 

"And if at first you don't succeed, try and try again!" Monokuma chipped in, a giggle in his tone. "Give it as many shots as you want, until you're comfortable enough to face reality." There it is. So they were trying to get rid of their determination early on. Apparently, the bears were happy that their message was delivered, because they erupted into giggles before bouncing away. 

Assholes.

They all exchanged weary glances with one another. With a group as large as this, he was sure at least _someone_ would refuse to give up now, but that didn't hide the fact that they were tired. It had been a mentally taxing day, after all. With that in mind, he was somewhat impressed by how energetically Angie spoke, even if she had already established a chronic cheerfulness, whether appropriate or not. "If an exit is there, then we should get going. We have proof that it'll be worth it!"

"But we also have proof that it's plain impossible, right?" Shirogane noted with a frown, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Their words were encouraging, but they made it sound like there isn't much point." 

Amami placed his hands on his hips, letting out a low hum of thought. "They want us to be desperate. Instead of letting us accept that it's impossible right off the bat, they leave that tiny chance available to motivate us into doing something. They're trying to corner us mentally." From the corner of his eye, Ouma could see Saihara mouthing 'psychological manipulation' before covering his mouth with his hand.

"Well, we can't just give up!" Momota argued, finally flaunting that blind positivity like he had initially expected. "So what if they think we're gonna fail? That just means we gotta prove them wrong! We can do it if we try hard enough!"

"Do you have shit in your ears? We already established that we can't beat the fuckin' death tunnel!" Iruma mocked with a scowl, gesturing at the aforementioned tunnel with clear annoyance. 

"No, Momota-kun's right." Akamatsu, of course, joined the conversation as soon as motivation came into question. "I mean, we've only failed once! If we work together, we might be able to beat it. We're Ultimates, after all!"

Yumeno pouted, disbelief dripping from her words. "But Monokuma-"

"Who cares about Monokuma! Do you honestly trust anything he says?" Ouma could agree with that sentiment, actually. "This may be hard, and it may take us a couple tries, but if we don't try at all, then we'll never know. It's better to do our best and have a chance than giving up straight away, right?"

Unsurprisingly, Momota, Angie, Gonta and Chabashira instantly echoed endorsement to Akamatsu's uplifting speech. Kiibo and Shirogane brightened in tandem, and some of the more reserved figures, such as Tojo, Hoshi and Amami, showed their own signs of approval in smiles and chuckles. Even Ouma, amidst his paranoia and buzzing thoughts, felt a pleasant warmth spread in his chest at the growing sense of togetherness. He knew, by logic and instinct, that it wouldn't last, but he chose to go along with it nonetheless as they started towards the tunnel once again. 

_"Someone else try taking the lead this time, 'kay?"_ were his bold last words before they set off. 

And failed. Again.

(He hit a trap, and though he didn't pass out, the intense dizziness he _did_ gain wasn't much better. Gonta helped carry him back.)

And again. 

(This time, he knew enough about the area and was agile enough to avoid the traps, but the numbers whittled down to far too few, and they made the executive decision to turn back.)

And again.

(He almost got burned to a crisp because Angie accidentally triggered a fire trap. Unrelated to why they turned back, which was the same reason as the prior, but it _was_ something that did nothing to improve his mood.)

By their fourth failure, Ouma had enough. His body was aching with exertion, not only from _this_ bullshit, but _also_ from the whole academy exploration and getting thrown by Chabashira earlier, on top of being stuck in a cramped locker for an undetermined amount of time. The overall energy and will power of the group had plummeted, but still they kept going, and _going._ Why? Because Akamatsu and Momota kept pushing? Kept preaching about never giving up and the power of friendship? 

He changed his mind. As it turns out, he does prefer to be the one leading, if only for his own benefit.

As soon as everyone was conscious and confirmed to be alright, Ouma dragged himself up from where he was sitting to draw attention. Sure enough, fifteen pairs of eyes latched onto him as he placed his hands on his waist, expression blank to show that this was a conversation he was taking seriously. Or, well, _semi_ -seriously, at least. "We're not getting anywhere with this. We're just wasting our time and energy, with zero results."

He had expected it, but that didn't stop Chabashira's retort from being annoying. "Don't be so selfish, degenerate! Like Akamatsu-san's been saying, we've gotta keep trying or we won't get anywhere."

"But we don't know if we'll actually get anywhere, so it _is_ just a waste of precious time and energy." Iruma grumbled, leaning against the wall of the cavern. "Mine, especially."

Ouma rolled his eyes, letting his gaze harden before pointing at the general room. "Listen to me. Listen. Are you listening?" He waited until he got a couple confused nods before continuing. "As a leader, you've gotta know when to give up, for the safety and wellbeing of those who are following you. In this scenario, trying to get through the tunnel is useless because there are too many traps for us to physically get through and- oh yeah! Monokuma _wants_ us to keep trying until we feel hopeless, so this isn't proving anything wrong, this is just _doing what he wants._ Wouldn't it be better to give up while we're ahead? Maybe we'll find another way out, but this death road sure as hell isn't it."

"But giving up is exactly what Monokuma wants-!" Momota tried to protest, but Ouma didn't even let him finish. 

" _Listen._ Repeating that 'we can do it' is great and all, love the enthusiasm, but it kinda loses its meaning if you keep saying it. At this point, it feels more like a threat. You're forcing us to keep going because nobody's gonna say _no_ to that." He huffed, one hand dropping from his waist as he watched Akamatsu wince. "That said, I know that you're all entitled to your own opinion or whatever. I'm not ordering you to give up, it's just a suggestion, y'know? All I'm saying is, personally, I'm calling it quits. You guys can keep trying if you really want."

Momota folded his arms and averted his eyes, calmer but clearly unhappy. "All I'm hearing is that you don't want to put in the effort to escape."

"No, I agree with him." Harukawa said, getting to her feet and adjusting the hem of her hoodie. "This was all obviously pointless from the start."

"It...would be logical to give up, with the lack of result." Kiibo seemed hesitant to agree, as if he wanted to trust his emotions rather than his logic, but was simply unable to. He didn't understand why he'd want to, but he supposed it had something to do with wanting to blend in with humans. A round of murmured agreements followed, each person offering half-hearted excuses as to why they didn't want to continue, to appease their morality. 

The lack of unity in her favour caused Akamatsu to wilt, fiddling with the straps of her backpack. She looked much more tired without her determination to spur her onwards. "I- I guess you're right." 

"If you want, I'd still be up to trying again." Amami offered, consoling as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Anyone who doesn't want to continue can go, and those who do can stay here and give it another go. It's the best compromise we have."

"I mean, I agree with Ouma-kun." Shirogane got up, pins jingling lightly with the movement. "But what should we do if we're not trying to get out?"

"We could go back to the dorms and finally rest." Yumeno mumbled, curled up against the wall and nuzzling into the fur trim of her blazer. "I agree, too. I'm really tired."

"It's kinda unrealistic to expect us to escape within a day, anyway. We've been through some exhausting stuff in under 24 hours." Ouma pointed out, and really, he wasn't actively trying to discourage them. He was simply making sure they understood how unlikely it was for this to work. "How about this? We all do whatever we want, try the tunnel again, rest in the dorms, whatever. Tomorrow, we can meet up to discuss plans and such at the dining hall at 8am, when it opens. That way, nobody is stepping on anyone's toes. Okay?"

"Yeah, that sounds okay." Amami smiled as the others began to shift, those who weren't up already standing, and others moving closer to the ladder as they planned to leave. There weren't many people willing to continue; Akamatsu, Momota, Chabashira, Amami and Gonta clustered together near the mouth of the tunnel. 

"I'll be sure to make breakfast for everyone tomorrow morning." Tojo stated lightly, and though the words were professional, her intention was obvious to him. She was trying to further cheer them up.

It seemed to work for Akamatsu, at least, as she offered the maid a small smile. "That sounds nice, Tojo-san. Thank you."

With an incline of Tojo's head, the conversation was mostly over, and Ouma took the opportunity to be the first to leave. He was slower to scale the ladder, if only because of his exhaustion, and he briefly wondered if he should warn those staying behind that if they weren't careful, they may be stuck under the manhole until they rest. He didn't, but the thought was made. The other eleven followed after him, but he mostly ignored them as he walked towards the main building. Most of the others separated from him to flock towards the dorms, and he couldn't fault them for that. 

"Ouma-kun?" He paused on the steps, tilting his head to glance over his shoulder at Kiibo, who was looking at him with mild confusion. "Where are you going?"

"To raid the kitchen. I'm starving, and it isn't nighttime yet." He said flatly, a smile flickering over his face at Kiibo's dawning realisation and subsequent embarrassment.

"That makes sense." Kiibo nodded awkwardly, before smiling back at him, hopeful. "Would you like me to accompany you?" He wondered if the robot expected him to get killed or something once he was alone. Or, on the flip side, for him to kill someone else.

Whatever it was, he shooed him away, turning his back to him. "Thanks for the offer, but nope, I'm good! You can go back to your room and...charge, I guess? Whatever you do instead of sleeping." Without waiting for a response, he pushed the doors open and slipped into the entrance hall, pace quick as he hurried to the kitchen. He wasn't followed.

He wasn't actually as hungry as he claimed to be, which was somewhat concerning, seeing as he couldn't remember the last time he ate. Even so, he made a piece of toast and ate it idly, sat at the table and finally alone, for the first time since he woke up. He stole a precautionary glance at the doors, listening for a minute to ensure nobody was going to walk in on him, before reaching into his pocket for whatever he found with the Monopad.

He dropped something heavy on the table, wrapped in a scroll of paper. Unwrapping it revealed a silver key, crowned with some weird eagle symbol that Ouma didn't recognise. He held it in his palm, turning it over and growing accustomed to its weight and feel. Then, finishing off his toast, he turned his attention to the paper. 

_Hey! We want you Ultimates to continue honing your talents while imprisoned here, so we've set up individual Ultimate Labs for each of you. They're designed to help with development of your talent. Unfortunately, we're not done setting up the Ultimate Supreme Leader's lab yet, but the key will unlock it once we are, so make sure to keep it safe!_

Ouma crumpled the paper up and stuffed it into his pocket, along with the key, before getting up. Supreme Leader. Youth Leader. They were both talents that centered around leading, but would his lab somehow hint at his actual talent in a way that he'd be unable to lie about? The uncertainty he felt in response to that question made him uncomfortable.

He didn't need his lab. He'd just never unlock it, and then he'd never run the risk. He doubted that there would be anything important in there, anyway. 

As soon as he got into his dorm, he threw the paper in the bin and shoved the key to the very back of the desk drawer provided. He didn't plan to use it, but better to be safe than sorry, right?

* * *

A few hours later, at exactly 10pm, the nighttime announcement sounded. Ten minutes later, Ouma was curled up in bed, listening to the sound of the others entering the dorms. 

Looks like they were unsuccessful after all.

He was immature enough, and petty enough, to whisper "I told you so" to the privacy of his dorm room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funnily enough, I've never written this many people in one scene and it's. hard. On the bright side, the main bear of the hour has arrived!! 
> 
> This chapter was a lot of exposition for the first half, but with the killing game in motion, things will start getting interesting! For daily life segments, I aim to have one day covered per chapter. Deadly life will most likely be seperated into investigation, and the class trial, which will cover two (or more) chapters by itself. 
> 
> On another note, here's a reference for Ouma's redesign (+ Kiibo)! Mostly because I don't know how I'd describe it in words, and also because Ouma himself wouldn't care enough to address it:
> 
> If you haven't voted for who to spend Free Time with already, do feel free to leave a comment! I'll accept votes until I get to the point of writing said free time in the next chapter.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I'll see you next chapter!


	3. 1.2 : Peace in Ignorance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dawn of the first official day of the killing game brings forth bad news, good news, and fake news.

Considering his inconsistent sleeping habits, it was a miracle that the morning announcement had the opportunity to wake him up. Ouma didn't typically get this much sleep in one sitting, but he supposed he must have actually been exhausted yesterday. Whatever conversation the Monokubs were having on screen was promptly ignored as he got out of bed and got ready for the day. He had a breakfast arrangement, after all, and he was already running late, by his own standards. He could imagine some of the others were at the dining hall as soon as it opened, and it was in personal preference that he was generally ahead of everyone else.

Of course, because the universe enjoyed spiting him just as much as he enjoyed spiting the universe, everyone was already there by the time he walked in. Any and all disappointment was covered up with a grin as he greeted everyone in a melodic tone, slipping seamlessly into the empty seat between Kiibo and Akamatsu. "Goood morning everyone! How are we all doing?"

"Sleepy." Yumeno grumbled from her spot between Chabashira and Angie. She clearly wasn't happy to be awake, hunched over like her head was too heavy for her shoulders and picking at her food. "But nobody died last night, so that's good."

"Yumeno-san! Don't say such awful things like that!" Chabashira gasped in horror, scandalised by such a trivial thing. Tojo emerged from the kitchen and began passing out bowls of miso soup quietly.

"But that's a good thing, right?" Shirogane hummed with a small smile, hands wrapped loosely around a cup of herbal tea. "That nobody died, I mean."

"Of course it is!" Kiibo insisted, and Ouma noted with mild amusement that the table was empty at his seat, allowing for the robot to rest his forearms on it. Tojo had made another round to the kitchen to get Ouma a bowl of rice, which he accepted with a grateful smile, but no verbal thanks. He was concentrating more on the current conversation. "I have to admit, I don't understand why we're acting like a murder is inevitable. Surely none of us have any reason to kill."

"You can't be so sure of that." Shinguuji said, breaking off from the quiet conversation he had been having with Amami, who sat next to him. "When in a desperate situation like this, humans can resort to unthinkable things in order to gain a higher chance of survival."

Kiibo leaned into the table, shoulders hunching slightly. "Is that so?" Though the words were posed as a question, it came out as a mildly disturbed statement.

"While we're on the topic of desperate situations," Ouma piped up cheerfully, stirring his miso soup as he watched the room through his bangs with a shadow of a smile. "Akamatsu-chan, Momota-chan and co! Did you get any further with the death tunnel? I'm guessing you didn't beat it entirely seeing as, y'know, you're all still here." He played off any harshness by being overly casual, taking a moment to test the temperature of the soup as he waited for someone to rise to his bait.

Momota did, unsurprisingly, as he scoffed and paused his eating. "Of course we did! Actually, we almost beat it. Turns out us five are a good team!" His supposed teammates didn't seem to agree, if their awkward or otherwise annoyed expressions were anything to go by. 

Ouma didn't bother looking at Momota as he replied with boredom in his tone. "If you're going to lie to my face, at least make it _slightly_ believable, otherwise it's just painful." He picked up his chopsticks, pointing towards Gonta to single him out. "How much progress did you guys really make?"

"Hey, I didn't lie! We were probably close." Momota tried to defend himself, and while his embarrassment was entertaining, Ouma ignored him in favour of waving his chopsticks in Gonta's direction with more urgency. He seemed to be hesitant to involve himself in the mini argument, but upon his non-verbal insistence, he coughed nervously.

"Sorry Momota-kun, but Gonta thinks we didn't get very close."

Iruma barked out an obnoxious laugh, and Ouma snickered into his scarf as Gonta apologised frantically to a miffed Momota. Harukawa rolled her eyes, pushing her rice around in its bowl. "Even if you were telling the truth, I wouldn't believe you. If sixteen motivated Ultimates can't beat it, then five tired ones will obviously fail."

"Come on guys, leave Momota-kun alone." Akamatsu chided as Ouma began to focus on eating. Her voice was more subdued than yesterday, and he didn't know if that was because she wasn't a morning person or because she was upset that the potential exit hadn't worked out. "I mean, it wasn't a complete lie! We made a bit of progress."

"Either way, we still don't have an exit, do we?" Hoshi sighed, setting down his soup bowl and leaning back into his chair, crossing his arms. "At this point, we know the tunnel isn't gonna work out."

Amami clicked his tongue in thought. "Well, we don't know that for sure. There might still be a different escape route, one that's more hidden."

"It does seem counterproductive for the exit to be both easily found and labelled, of all things." Tojo seemed to have concluded her maid duties for the moment, because she sat down in the last available seat with a cup of black tea, relaxing into place. "There is a possibility that the tunnel was a fake, to distract us from actual escape."

Iruma slammed her fist on the table, causing half the table to jump or flinch. The other half, Ouma included, either hid their surprise very well, or genuinely didn't care. "Of course they'd tease us! It's just like those sadistic fuckers." Saihara hadn't touched his food at all, looking increasingly uncomfortable, and Ouma was starting to consider that may just be because he was the unfortunate soul sitting beside Iruma. The other was Angie, but she didn't seem to be bothered in the slightest, therefore demoting her from unfortunate soul status.

"Well, this is a game to them, is it not?" Shinguuji mused, something bitter in his voice. "It goes without saying that they would enjoy toying with us."

"Speaking of this _lovely_ killing game," The shrill voice was an unwelcome addition, shown by the generally negative reactions of his classmates. By negative, he meant several furrowed eyebrows, winces and a couple shrieks thrown in for flavour. He grimaced as he turned around in his chair, leaning against the back to face Monokuma, standing behind him in the center of the room. "I have an announcement to make!"

"An announcement?" Amami repeated, his voice and posture suddenly tense and cold, as if a flip had been switched. He eyed the bear suspiciously, and Ouma couldn't fault him, because he was doing the same thing.

"Yeah! See, unfortunately, being placed in a killing game doesn't mean that you're gonna instantly give into your murderous potential." Ouma felt something cold settle in his stomach at Monokuma's sighed words. He had a horrible feeling that this was going to address Kiibo's statement earlier, about nobody having a reason to murder. "So to make it easier, and ease you all into the killing game, I'm going to give you a motivation to kill. Or, in short, a motive!"

"A motive?" Kiibo verbalised the very same dread Ouma could feel permeating through the room. Everyone seemed to be coming to the same conclusion of horror, or some variant of it.

"This oughta be good." Hoshi sighed, slumping in his chair, but his sarcasm was a thin veil to his own wariness. 

"Listen closely now!" Monokuma declared to gain their attention, and the sudden glow of his red eye held malicious intent. For something that barely reached his hip, he was shockingly good at appearing intimidating. "Starting from now, there's a time limit! If a murder doesn't occur by nighttime in three days, then every student participating in the killing game will _die_! A gruesome, painful death by mauling, so you might want to consider your options carefully."

Ouma didn't show genuine panic whenever possible, because genuine weakness was unbecoming of a leader, but that didn't stop him from feeling it. As he heard the motive, he felt a burst of said unrestrained panic in his chest, because he knew it was going to cause unrest within the group. And even if it wasn't, it still mentally cornered them, because he highly doubted they were going to escape within three days, tunnel or otherwise. A murder was more likely to happen because of that, fuelled by desperation, and - panic suddenly morphed into paranoia - _he could die here_. It was always an option, but it was so much more apparent now that there was a motive involved, now that there was pressure for someone to make a move. 

" _We all die_? Bullshit! I refuse to die with a bunch of virgins. I'm too good for that!" Iruma sniffed, sticking her nose in the air even though the tremor in her voice gave her away. Ouma didn't have the heart to poke fun at her as he gathered his thoughts, and even if he did, Monokuma cut in with high pitched laughter before he could.

"Well, if you want to refuse to die, you better get to killing!" Iruma curled into herself slightly, subtle enough to be mostly unnoticeable unless you were explicitly watching her for a reaction. Which he was, and as such, the movement ruined her proud facade, in his eyes.

Tojo sighed, and though she maintained an image of grace, her grip on her cup was too tight. "I see. We're forced into a moral dilemma. If we wish to survive, murder is the safest and easiest option, but in doing so, you'd have to break your own moral code."

"Either way, Atua will surely help lead us down the right path." Angie chirped, her smile paper thin and easy to see through, even though she tried to project happiness outwards. "We just need to calm down."

"Calm down? Three days will be here in an instant!" Shirogane fretted, tugging at her blazer and causing the pins to rattle with the movement.

"Hey, if you're so worried about the time limit, then I've already told you a solution." Monokuma sighed, as if already exhausted by their back and forth, but Ouma was sure he was enjoying himself. Or perhaps, if not him, whoever else was involved behind the scenes - he had his doubts that it was just the six bears. "Just kill someone! Any way you want, get creative with the resources I've graciously provided!"

"Stop screwing around. I already said we'd never play your game!" Akamatsu retorted, sounding just as determined as she did in the gym. It was a shame her eyes gave way to her distress. "None of us are going to kill anyone, because we'll work together to get out of here before your time limit ends." It was a bold claim, and if the subtle waver in her tone at the end of the sentence said anything, she didn't truly believe it either. Maybe she wanted to believe it, was pushing herself to believe it, like Angie and her god. 

"Eh, do what you want. Your flowery words aren't fooling anybody." Ouma loathed admitting it, but he had to agree with Monokuma on that regard. Akamatsu's speeches were all well and good until they were repeated until they lost meaning. "In fact, it's usually ones like you that snap the easiest, and bloody their hands. And it's so entertaining to watch too!" 

Akamatsu recoiled, and if Ouma was allowing himself to react naturally instead of schooling his expression, he would have winced. It was unsurprising coming from the thing imprisoning them, forcing them into this killing game, but the insinuation was still harsh. Momota growled under his breath, standing up with enough force that his chair almost toppled over. "You bastard! Like hell we're gonna do as you say!"

The next few moments slowed to a crawl, as Momota pushed his chair out of his way and surged forward in a clear attack towards Monokuma. Rule 5 rang in his head like alarm bells as the sound of thumping metal came from down the hall, along with the cubs' chorused catchphrase. Gonta, ever protective and clearly reaching the same conclusion as him, got up to stop Momota from getting hurt. Momota himself skidded to a stop, alarmed as the blue Exisal emerged in the door of the dining hall and instantly charged towards him. If the gasps he could hear was any indication, Ouma was sure some of the others were turning away, but he kept his eyes locked on the scene as the Exisal accidentally crushed Monokuma on its mad dash towards its target. The pressure must have set something off, because a small explosion burst underneath the Exisal's foot, stunning the approaching machines to a stop. 

The cubs hopped out of their respective Exisals moments later, wailing about their poor father, in a way that was overdramatic to the point of insincerity. Ouma didn't really care about their frantic theatrics, and it didn't seem like the others did either, because it didn't take long for Kiibo to speak over the cubs' grieving. "What...happened?"

"Monokuma blew up, I guess." Momota answered with uncertainty, stumbling back from where he had been standing, closer to the blast than the rest of them. He leaned against the back of his chair, and Gonta returned to his own seat, recognising that the threat to his friend's life seemed to have passed. "Serves him right, after the shit he said."

"So is he just...gone now?" Yumeno was peeking over her arms, her head resting on the table. She must have hidden her face when the Exisals appeared and didn't seem particularly inclined to lift it again.

"I doubt it." Hoshi seemed more relaxed than a decent number of the group, though he seemed tenser than before. "Monokuma's artificial. There'll be another of him to replace the first one, I bet."

"How heartless!" Pink cried from where the cubs were collecting the broken pieces of Monokuma. "Daddy always told us that we were special and unique, and the same applies for him. He's one of a kind!" Their conversation immediately turned to funeral arrangements, which seemed to involve cooking Monokuma's corpse. It didn't sound respectful, or functional, considering they were all robots, but hey. Traditions were traditions. The only remotely interesting thing they mentioned before scurrying off with the Exisals in tow was that they were now the headmasters of the Academy, and that was a train wreck he didn't care to think about right now. 

There was a stillness at the table, that was quickly broken by the more composed members of the group returning to their breakfast. It took another minute of quiet eating before Chabashira cleared her throat loudly, fidgeting with her chopsticks as Momota finally sat down again. "S-so what do we do now?'

Shinguuji nodded in favour of the question. "This was certainly an unforeseen event. I do wonder what it means for our current predicament."

"Unforeseen or not, in the end, I'd say it's a good thing." Ouma said brightly, instantly aware of fifteen pairs of eyes on him. Disbelief among his peers was expected, but he was often more observant than he was given credit for - he recognised a feeble hope among them. It was only natural to fuel it. "Monokuma has been defeated for us. If there's no final boss to fight, then obviously, we win! That's how games work."

"We did?!" Gonta gasped, smiling with an unbridled excitement. He had also returned to the table, but he seemed to have already finished his food, leaving his attention to be left solely on the conversation.

"Yay! I knew we'd be okay!" Angie cheered, clapping her hands together and bouncing lightly in her chair. He wouldn't be surprised if she was kicking her legs under the table too.

"I hope you're right. I can't handle all this stress." Shirogane sighed, a hand over her heart to emphasise her statement. She paused, before adjusting her glasses with a creased brow. "Can it really be this easy, though? It feels like cheating, not that I'm complaining or anything!"

"No. Just because it's called a killing game doesn't mean we can apply traditional game logic to it." Saihara interjected quietly, intensely interested with his own bowl of rice. "We can't assume that we're safe because Monokuma is gone, when we still have the cubs to worry about. Didn't they say they were the new headmasters?"

"And you seriously consider them a threat? They weren't intimidating from the beginning, but without Monokuma, they act just as lost as us." Harukawa's words were mocking, contrasted by her overall lack of tone. She, similarly, seemed more invested with her food than the conversation, but she spared a sharp glance at the room nonetheless.

Saihara didn't reply, simply pursed his lips together. This, unfortunately, didn't stop Iruma from scoffing beside him, elbowing him in the side. "Why does it matter, anyway? Like Chinpouma said, with Monokuma downgraded to scrap metal, the main motherfucker is down. They can't continue without him." She got nothing from the detective, aside from a flinch at the contact and chopsticks stabbed into his rice. Ouma, similarly, didn't react to her stupid nickname, because it wasn't a surprise from someone like her. 

"No, Saihara-kun has a point." Akamatsu jumped to his defense, which was admittedly a move Ouma hadn't predicted. With all her optimism, he thought she would cling to any hope, fake or otherwise. "We don't know if we're safe for sure-"

"Buuut by the same principle, we also don't know if we're _not_ safe for sure." Ouma wore a playful grin that wasn't appropriate for the current conversation, but he always liked contrast. "Why should we assume the worst? You make it sound like you don't want us to be safe."

That struck a nerve, Akamatsu visibly tensing. "No, that's not it! I just think we should be careful, is all!"

"Don't worry so much, Kaede! I'm sure we're all okay now, so just try to be positive." Angie giggled, leaning forward to prop her elbows on the table and rest her chin in her palms. Her encouragement didn't seem to have much effect on Akamatsu, who bit her lip and looked down at her hands. 

Amami sighed, shrugging as he put his empty rice bowl down. His voice took on that weird conspiratorial lilt that it did whenever they spoke about things concerning the inner workings of the killing game. "I don't know about that. Sure, Monokuma is gone, and that's definitely a reason to celebrate. But he's only a robot, right? There might be someone else behind him, and if there is, his death won't mean anything in the grand scheme of things."

Ouma pretended he didn't notice the way Kiibo's fingers twitched at the robot comment, focusing on the warmth of his soup. "I'm not sure how much I agree with the notion that we're no longer in danger entirely," He also pretended to ignore the pointed glance in his direction that was probably conveying Kiibo's disapproval alongside his words. "But perhaps we should all focus on escape? Monokuma or not, that's still something we can do without arguing about personal opinions."

"I agree. Whether Monokuma's death has any effect or not, we can all agree that escape is our top priority." Tojo nodded, and having finished her tea, rose from her seat and resumed her arbitrary maid duties, cleaning up any finished dishes.

It seemed that the rest of the group seemed okay with this arrangement, because while there were some who didn't seem thrilled, nobody actively opposed it. Ouma chose to play along with a noise of agreement through a mouthful of rice, because he didn't have any issues with the idea himself. Following the flow of conversation, the next topic was _how_ they were going to work towards escape, but it didn't produce any real results, and quickly broke away to smaller discussions among pairs and trios, like it had been before he had arrived. Some left as soon as the main discussion fizzled out; Harukawa and Hoshi had finished eating and didn't seem to care about staying, while Saihara left his uneaten food behind. Nobody tried to stop them. 

With Saihara gone, Kiibo was swiftly roped into a conversation with Iruma, who now sat on his immediate left. Akamatsu was content to talk with those on her right, leaving Ouma blissfully unbothered to finish his breakfast and eavesdrop on everyone else. There wasn't anything interesting that caught his ear though, so in the end, he let it smooth out into background noise as he ate. The number started to thin, those who wrapped up their food and conversation hightailing out of the room, which was why he was a bit confused as to why Kiibo, who didn't eat to begin with, remained in his seat. For Iruma, maybe - their conversation was filled with mutual interest, with a hint of confusion from the robot's side. The confusion was cleared up when Iruma announced her own departure despite really not needing to, and Kiibo turned to Ouma near immediately, which reminded him that he was clearly unhappy with something he did earlier and probably wanted to ask about it. Joy of joys. 

"What's got your wires in a twist?" He mumbled with a raised eyebrow, rice bowl raised to his mouth to hide his lower face while his scarf couldn't, even though he just finished the last of its contents. Call it a habit, but he felt more comfortable that way. 

"My wires _aren't_ in a twist! They are kept neatly organised for easier maintenance." Kiibo corrected with a huff, which tapered into a small sigh. He watched Ouma with a furrowed brow, voice lowering in volume. "Do you actually believe that we've won? That we're safe now that Monokuma is out of the picture?"

Ouma snorted as he put down the bowl, tightening and readjusting his scarf. "No, of course not. I don't think Monokuma is the real mastermind behind all this, he seems more like a mascot. Besides, it seems like a waste of time to get us all here and then be defeated so easily. My whole spiel earlier was a lie."

For a moment, Kiibo seemed bewildered, making a few stuttered noises as he fought to keep his voice down. It was both considerate, to not want to draw attention to this specific conversation, as well as very funny to watch. "Why would you lie about such an important topic?"

He clicked his tongue, leaning back in his chair and waiting for Tojo to finish collecting his dishes before replying in a murmur. "Because the truth wasn't what most of us wanted to hear. The others didn't need me to flat out state that we're stuck here with no way to escape, because there's no way we're actually gonna find a usable exit any time soon."

"I still don't understand your need to lie." The other confessed after a moment of pause, frowning. "If that _is_ the undeniable truth of our situation, then everyone else will find out eventually. What's the point of hiding it from them now? It seems like you're putting off the inevitable."

Ouma let out a long sigh as he folded his arms behind his head, pushing his chair to balance on two legs. A mischievous smile pulled at his lips. "Maybe, but hey! If I said the truth back there, the tension would have been higher than it already is and really, is it so bad that everyone relaxes for a bit before they figure things out?"

"You won't listen even if I do try to contradict that, right?" Kiibo asked with a hint of resignation, eyeing the teetering chair with suspicion before adding as an afterthought. "That's not a safe or proper way to sit on a chair, Ouma-kun."

He let the chair drop back to all fours, sticking out his tongue childishly before getting to his feet. "Nope! If you want to break the news to everyone though, I won't stop you." He held his hands up in mock surrender, grinning at Kiibo's glare in return, because they both knew he wouldn't - or at least, Ouma had a confident guess. If he was going to, he would have done so during the actual discussion. "Anyway, I'm gonna go. See you around, Kiiboy!" He waved as he moved around the chair, catching the responding eye roll and wave from the robot, before calling to the kitchen. "Thanks for breakfast, Tojo-chan!"

He didn't wait for a response before he skipped out of the room, only mildly disappointed when Kiibo chose not to follow.

Ouma spent the remainder of the morning searching the grounds for an exit he was pretty certain didn't exist, not because he had nothing to do, but more so because he decided that if he was going to be stuck here, he deserved to get acquaintanced with his surroundings. Thankfully, it wasn't a complete waste; when he checked the lower courtyard, he found that the stones that had once blocked the gravel path leading off it had miraculously disappeared. The new area didn't hold much except for a large building, made of metal that looked a little bit worse for wear. If anything, it kind of reminded him of a derelict shack. However, he could appreciate the neon lights above the door, even if he couldn't open the doors themselves. According to the note plastered onto one, this building was Iruma's Ultimate Lab, but like his own, it wasn't fully prepared yet. Being unable to enter the lab made it difficult to investigate, so he moved on after a quick loop around the building itself.

The only other obvious differences in environment between last night and this morning was the unlocking of the room in the basement, connecting to the Game Room. Despite having been locked previously, it wasn't interesting in the slightest. Of course, Ouma's initial reaction to the A/V Room was excitement, with its varied selection of movies paired with a large projector screen, but in all honesty, it was hardly different from the average home cinema. He flipped through the DVDS on offer, but quickly grew bored and left. 

As it turned out, it was perfect timing, because it allowed him to cross paths with Saihara as he left the library. The detective was a figure of interest, mostly because of his Ultimate and partly because of how quiet and suspicious he was. He didn't seem to notice Ouma's presence at first, and he might have been offended if he didn't immediately remedy this by running towards him with a grin. "Saihara-chan! What are _you_ up to?"

Saihara tensed, but politely stopped to look in his direction. "Ah, hello Ouma-kun. Just looking through the books in the library." His gaze flickered over his shoulder to the doors of said room, and never returned to him directly. "I wanted to see if any of them related to the history of this school, or at least, whatever was here before it. I thought it might show layouts for any hidden passages out or something but…"

He trailed off. Merciful as he is, Ouma decided to ignore the fact that everything he said was a blatant lie and table that for later thought. Instead, he gave him a sympathetic smile. "Didn't find anything, huh?" Saihara nodded, reaching up to fiddle with his hat. In return, he furrowed his eyebrows before making a show of lighting up and channeling his inner Akamatsu, or Momota. "Still, that was a really clever idea! I never would have thought of it myself, and I'm used to thinking out of the box, what with my talent and all."

Ouma had mainly mentioned his talent in the hopes it would spark _some_ fun questions from Saihara, like Akamatsu, but no such questions occured. Instead, he shrugged and slowly began to walk again, up the stairs. He had no issues trailing after him. "It's not that impressive, honestly. It was kind of a stupid idea, and I didn't get anything out of it, so it was a waste of time."

"Man, you must be fun at parties!" It was spoken in a teasing tone, but Saihara didn't react to it and Ouma had to wonder how bad his self-esteem was if he couldn't take such a painfully cliche taunt. Or perhaps he was ignoring him, which was an unfortunate but very likely option.

Finally, Saihara heaved a sigh, stopping at the entrance hall. "I'm sorry, I'm not a very good conversationalist, especially now. My mind's preoccupied with everything that's going on. Anxiety and all." He punctuated his words with a weak smile, but still refused eye contact. Taking what he just said into account, Ouma assumed it had to do with anxiety. That wouldn't stop him from trying to get eye contact, but that did give the habit a sensible reason. 

"Don't worry about it." He said nonchalantly, waving dismissively. Ouma wasn't the type to be respectful, but even though he had several questions for his classmate, he knew he wouldn't get any answers if he badgered him now. Not after catching him leaving the library, apparently, which really only served to raise more questions. "I get it. You need to be alone to clear your head or whatever. Go do that! Hopefully you'll feel a lil' calmer later."

"Thanks." Saihara's smile softened, his balance of surprise and relief noticeable. With a small nod, he disappeared through the front doors, set to make a beeline back to his room. Ouma watched him leave, noting that his pace was quicker as if to avoid any other chance encounters, before clicking his tongue once he left his field of vision.

The next thing on his agenda was to pay a visit to the warehouse and grab that whiteboard he saw yesterday. While he was there, he decided that it wouldn't hurt to ferret around and see the extent of what they were being provided, which was a much simpler task when he wasn't simultaneously eavesdropping on a conversation. There didn't seem to be much of a theme surrounding the objects available; stacks of printer paper, various types of batteries and nail polish remover were displayed on the shelves, among a hundred other things. Ouma pocketed a pack of playing cards in the interest of his own future boredom, and spent a moment gazing longingly at the packaged RC helicopters before accepting the fact that if he wanted the whiteboard, he wasn't going to be able to lug a toy helicopter back too.

He found the whiteboard right where he left it, and stopped in front of it to stare at his new property, hands on his waist. Now, the question was how he was going to bring it back to his dorm.

Well, actually, it was very clearly going to be wheeled back to his dorm. Perhaps a better question would be how he planned to maneuver this huge whiteboard back to his dorm without too much of a hassle. 

He didn't know the exact answer to that, but luckily, he didn't care. He'd figure it out when he got there - the relocation of this whiteboard from point A to B wasn't important enough for him to waste brainpower on. Instead, Ouma found the pack of whiteboard markers and stuffed them into his pocket. He removed the brakes on the whiteboard's wheels, grabbing the edge of it and carefully beginning to push so he could get used to the momentum. If the wheels were rusty and caught easily, he might have been inclined to leave it be, but they weren't and so he had little difficulty pushing the whiteboard out of the warehouse, aside from slight misdirections. 

Ouma made it to the entrance hall before he ran into someone, which was further than he expected. The front doors creaked open, and Momota barely made it two steps inside before halting in his tracks, visibly surprised to see him. Well, maybe not _him_ , but definitely him and his whiteboard. He narrowed his eyes, in confusion rather than suspicion. "Are you bringing that up to your dorm room?"

Ouma smiled, sickly sweet and entirely disingenuous. "No, Momota-chan, I'm taking the whiteboard for a walk- what do you think?" Though his smile remained in place, he was sure his eyes conveyed his annoyance.

"No need to be so passive aggressive, I was just asking." Momota huffed, eyes lingering on the whiteboard before he sighed, nodding towards it. "Want any help with that? Your room's upstairs, right? Might be hard to get it up there with only one pair of hands."

It was chivalrous enough of a statement that it was in character for him, yet Ouma still felt like it had come out of nowhere. It wasn't like he was trying to make an enemy of Momota, but he was easy to rile up and he assumed he wouldn't be in his good books after embarrassing him in front of everyone. That said, did he want the help? No. That would require letting him into his room and even if there was nothing there of value, he enjoyed his privacy. However, he also knew that Momota had a point; dragging this whiteboard up the stairs would be a bitch. With that in mind, he drew out half hearted hum and his smile softened into something that wasn't so clearly fake. "How kind of you to offer! What, do you like me or something?" He snickered as Momota's expression contorted, continuing before he could retort. "Kidding! I'd love the help. Keep the doors open so I can roll this through, then you can grab the other end and help me get this to the dorms."

Momota shot him a look that showed he was already regretting his offer, but did as he was told regardless. Nothing was said between them until they were out of the building and the whiteboard had been carried down the few steps there. "Why'd you want this thing anyway? We're gonna find a way out soon enough, so why get comfortable like this?"

Ouma rolled his eyes, watching his footing as he was walking backwards, turning the board towards the dorm entrance. "Getting out as soon as possible doesn't mean we won't need to stay a few nights. We can only make so much progress per day." He let go of the whiteboard in favour of opening the doors. "Besides, maybe room decorating is calming to me! What would you say to that, huh?"

Momota responded with a sound that resembled an aborted chuckle. "I'd say that's a weirdly specific coping mechanism, but good for you, man." The conversation faltered as they figured out how to carry the whiteboard up the stairs, eventually deciding on Ouma leading it up as Momota lifted it from the bottom. "Seriously though, now that I defeated Monokuma, getting out should be a piece of cake! You said so too, right? At breakfast?"

He didn't give a response as he moved to unlock his door, except for a small mocking smile. If Momota wanted to imagine himself as the hero of the story, he wasn't going to stop him, but it was hilarious to hear. 

* * *

If Ouma thought the stairs were an offense to the eyes, then the school shop was a monstrosity. He had no idea why the shop had to have a theme, and why out of all possible themes, they went with _this_ , but it was an assault to the eyes when preceded by the cool tones of the hallways. 

Even so, he had found an allowance of whatever currency they used - Monocoins, which was a stupid name - in his dorm and had nothing better to do with it except spend it. The store was less a _store_ and more like an unnecessarily decorated room that housed the MonoMono machine, which was both another very stupid name and functionally a gashapon machine, but money wasted was money wasted, no matter where it went.

He didn't get anything particularly thrilling; maple fudge and sukiyaki caramel were fine and all, but nothing to get excited over. A size-adjustable beret was cool, but Ouma would rather be caught dead than in a beret of all things. The bubble gum bomb - okay, reading the packaging, he was pretty happy with that little present. He took out a stick of gum as he left the store due to a lack of remaining pocket space, popping it in his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, furrowing his eyebrows as he placed his hands on his waist, just outside the door. Now seemed like an optimal time to find someone to annoy, seeing as he had been flying solo for most of the day. Besides, it was always better to know more about the people around you.

He wandered around in search of a companion, blowing a bubble and trying to see how big it could get before it burst with an explosive pop. In truth, he was looking for someone in particular, but he'd settle for anyone if he couldn't find him. He was sure that if he checked his Monopad, he would be able to see where everyone was, but he had left his Monopad in his dorm because he assumed that was how they were being tracked, and he preferred leaving his location ambiguous. 

Even without the map, he quickly found Amami sat in classroom C, with his own Monopad out. Admittedly, he wasn't who he was looking for, but he was curious about him so it wasn't any loss. Ouma didn't know what he was doing, nor did he care, because he didn't look busy and that was good enough for him. "Amami-chan! Wanna hang out?" He called cheerfully as he pushed the door wider than the crack he used to spy on him, announcing his presence.

Several quick blinks were the only indication of Amami's surprise before he looked at him with a friendly smile. "Hang out, huh?" He turned off his tablet, getting up from the desk he was sat at. "I'd be up for that, sure. How does a chat over some tea sound to you?"

Ouma gasped, clasping his hands over his heart with a playful twinkle in his eyes. "Oh, a tea party! You really do know the way to a boy's heart." 

The other chuckled, shaking his head lightly as he joined Ouma in the doorway, gently waving him out to the hallway. He followed the ushering, taking the time to take the gum out of his mouth and wrap in its wrapper. "I'm guessing that's a yes, then?"

"Obviously. Why would I ask if I was gonna say no?"

And so, he found himself sitting in the dining hall again, kicking his legs idly as Amami made the tea. He had insisted, and that paranoid part of him instantly decided that he could be plotting to poison him, so Ouma was watching him carefully from the table. His hand drifted to his pocket as he waited, to the beret he didn't want, and he squinted at Amami in thought. Would he like something like that? He pulled it out and began to fiddle with it, only looking away from Amami once he began carrying two cups over. 

He set one down in front of Ouma, before taking a seat across from him, eyes drawn to the bright red hat in his hands. "Oh, that's a nice beret. I never thought you'd be the type to wear one." His voice was devoid of anything accusatory, a mere observation - and an accurate one, at that. 

"I'm not." Ouma agreed, before glancing at him with a grin. He held the beret out towards him, as if presenting him with a crown. "But you are, I bet! Do you want it? I think it'd suit you, y'know, with the red hat and your green hair. Complimentary, or whatever."

"Really? That's sweet of you to say." He laughed, and Ouma's sharp eye caught a pink tint to his face. Amami reached for it, before hesitating momentarily, hands hovering. "Are you sure? It might suit you too, if you want to give it a try."

Ouma pouted, eyes narrowing as he surged forward, leaning up from his chair and half clambering over the table to shove the beret down on Amami's head. He let out a yell in response, but it was soft and he was smiling, so it was all in good fun. He hummed, ruffling and brushing his hair with his fingers, readjusting the beret until he was satisfied, falling back into his seat with a self satisfied smirk. "Nope, don't even try that. Take the beret. It's yours now." He folded his arms, sticking his nose into the air in fake haughtiness. "If you try to give it back to me, I'll burn it.

Amami smiled, reaching up to tug gently at the beret and readjust it himself. "Well, I guess my hands are tied. I can't just let something as stylish as this go to waste." His hands fell to wrap around his cup, which reminded Ouma of his own tea, cooling on the table. He dragged it towards him by the handle, pressing his fingertips to the side to check the heat. "So, how are you doing?"

"Seriously?" Ouma huffed, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "That's how you're opening this conversation? Boring. Basic. I'm already asleep." He leaned back in his seat, to give himself room to make large and unneeded gestures. "Engage me! There's gotta be _something_ we can talk about that doesn't involve this situation and my feelings on the matter."

Amami chuckled at his display, shrugging as he took a sip of his tea. "I don't know if there is. What else could we talk about that isn't about the killing game?" He paused, leaning an elbow on the table. "I guess we could talk about everyone else, but gossip isn't really a good thing to start now so-"

"No no no, stop right there!" He pointed at him as he straightened in his chair, an excited smile on his face. "Now is the best time for gossip! Air out your grievances on everyone else so we can effectively work together. What do you think of everyone?"

"Everyone, huh?" Amami, noticeably amused, played along with his prompt. "I think there's a lot of colourful personalities here, you included - not saying that's a bad thing." Ouma waved his hand to tell him to continue, taking his words as a compliment instead of an insult as he tried his tea. "I'm just saying that it's pretty interesting to see the differences between us all, and how we're able to work together regardless. To a certain extent, at least."

He nodded along with his words, putting his cup down with a sigh. "This is good tea, Amami-chan. I feel warmth finally returning to my cold, dead heart." Amami laughed, good natured as he is, before Ouma narrowed his eyes and frowned. "But that makes you sound like Shinguuji-chan, which isn't really a great comparison, you know? He's totally creepy and kinda has an aura that suggests he'd be down for grave robbing. Which, again, doesn't really do him any favours."

"He does come off a bit unsettling." The other conceded, before a casual smile bloomed on his face. "I don't know, he's an okay guy once you sit him down and have a good conversation with him. I think he's just passionate about his interest in humanity and doesn't have very good social skills, so he seems weird."

"Next you'll be telling me his lack of actual concern surrounding everything is because of a complicated and tragic past." Ouma teased, followed with a hum of contemplation, swirling his tea around the cup. "I'm kidding. He's not too bad, seems smart and all. There's definitely worse people in our little ragtag group. Like Iruma-chan!"

Amami raised an eyebrow with a small snort. "What's wrong with Iruma?"

"What's wrong with Iruma?" He mimicked in disbelief, setting his cup down with a small thump while managing not to spill any. "Have you _seen_ her? It's like she wants to advertise herself as a whore!" Ouma's tone was light, joking, because Iruma wasn't around for him to make it sound harsh. 

"Hey now, that's a bit too far, isn't it?" Amami chided as he finished his tea, throwing an arm over the back of his chair. Despite the sternness in his voice, his eyes held playfulness. "She's just the type to prefer to be on top." Ouma snickered. "That doesn't mean she's trying to oversexualise herself. It might be a coping mechanism for her. With everything going on, you can't really blame her for using one."

"I guess you're right." Ouma made a show of whining, slumping in his chair like a frustrated child as he cradled his teacup to his mouth. He downed the remainder of the drink and by the time he put the cup down, a wide grin was on his face. "You sounded just like a big brother though! Oh! Oh! Can you be _my_ brother? Pleeease?"

He intended it as a joke but Amami's eyes darkened at his words, and though his posture remained casual, his muscles tensed. "No, that's not a good idea. I don't think I'm a very good big brother." The heaviness of those words made it obvious there was something emotional behind them, and Ouma had half the mind to start prying. He could infer plenty from the statement alone, but he couldn't guess with complete accuracy. 

However, Ouma also enjoyed Amami's company so he giggled instead, hopping to his feet and letting a lie he didn't think about roll off his tongue. "That's probably for the best! I mean, my biological big brother is dead, so you can only imagine what kind of horrors you'd face with me as a sibling."

Amami took the hint, standing with his cup as he smiled, once again relaxed. "That can't be true. I haven't known you for long, but you seem like a person with good intentions. If your brother's dead, I can't imagine that it would be because of you." 

He scoffed, handing Amami his cup too and trailing after him as he went to the kitchen to wash them. "Au contraire, you have never had _me_ as a sibling, and therefore can't possibly know how different I am with family."

The other laughed, but didn't say anything until he had set both the cups on the drying rack. He turned around, drying his hands with a dishcloth while offering him a gentle smile. "If you still want to hang out, I kinda feel like going for a walk outside, and I wouldn't mind you joining me. The weather looks nice."

Ouma wrinkled his nose. "Ew."

"Come on, some fresh air would be good for you." Amami set the dishcloth down by the sink, and moved back towards the dining hall. "We could walk down to the fountain and then I'll leave you alone. I wanted to ask you if you had any ideas about what my talent might be."

He sighed dramatically, slinking after him as they exited the dining hall and wrapping his arms around one of his. This allowed him to cling to him like a baby koala and be a general nuisance, and yet Amami let him do so. "I can't leave when you clearly need my wonderful advice. What kind of leader would I be if I abandoned you now?"

"Well, I'm happy you want to help me." Amami said airly as they walked, the hand that wasn't hindered by Ouma's weight reaching up to make sure his beret was secure. "Do you have any ideas off the top of your head? I was thinking maybe I was missing an outsider's perspective, like there might be an obvious clue that I can't pick up on."

Ouma clicked his tongue repeatedly as his eyebrows shifted in thought. "Nope, not really." He let one arm slip away, so instead of clinging, their arms were hooked together for easier walking. He didn't react to the glimpse of disappointment on his companion's face, but it did encourage the words that followed. "Not all talents are obvious though. How about you tell me stuff about yourself, and then I can try to figure a talent out of it?" He paused as he watched Amami's eyebrows furrow while he led them out into the courtyard, adding onto his offer. "I'm not asking for your entire life story. In fact, I'll ditch you if you try and rope me into an eight hour tragic backstory. Just hobbies or things you spend a lot of time doing."

"Hobbies, huh?" Amami was quiet for a few moments as he mulled over the question. Ouma, meanwhile, was only mildly irritated by the breeze tangling his fringe in front of his vision, letting go of the other boy entirely to fix his hair. "From what I remember, I spent most of my time travelling."

Ouma blinked, curiosity piquing as he smiled in a show of explicit friendliness, hoping to get more details. "Travelling?"

"Around the world, yeah. I'd say that's my biggest hobby." He folded his arms, gaze wandering upwards to the cage surrounding them. Ouma briefly considered that Amami might be feeling more trapped than anyone else, if he really did travel that much. "My dad has a boat, so I usually take that on voyages and make business connections-"

"A boat?!" Ouma repeated incredulously, placing emphasis in the words to make sure they both recognised how odd the statement was. " _Business connections_? How rich is your family?"

Amami chuckled with a semblance of awkwardness that was contradicted by his calm air. "Not the richest by far, but I...uh, guess I classify as a rich kid of sorts. My family's pretty wealthy." He seemed embarrassed by the confession, though Ouma couldn't imagine why. Perhaps because of the rich kid stereotypes, despite few being applicable to him. 

"All this time, all these years I've known you, and you never told me of your family fortune?" Ouma choked out through crocodile tears, even as he skipped down the stairs to the lower courtyard like he didn't have a care in the world. "You've been holding out on me!"

For a brief moment, Amami seemed alarmed by his tears before realising there were no genuine emotions behind them and chuckling. "If you want, I could get you something when we eventually get out of here, as thanks for the present. I've got some interesting trinkets from my travels that I wouldn't mind giving up."

Ouma's tears disappeared as quickly as they came, and he beamed. "Aw, really? I was joking, y'know, but I'd happily accept any tribute you choose to give me." He turned to walk backwards so he could face Amami, folding his arms behind his head. "As for your talent, you sound like you could be the Ultimate Traveller. Or the Ultimate Merchant maybe, if you're travelling and selling."

Amami hummed before shaking his head. "Neither of those feel right. They sound too...whimsical for me. The travels I go on aren't as picture perfect as that title implies." Ouma frowned; that only raised more questions. The thought distracted him, and he bit down a yelp when his back hit the door to the fountain area. He dropped his arms and fumbled for the handle, pushing the door open with his shoulder. 

Unfortunately, the area wasn't as empty as he hoped it would be, as a mere two seconds after they passed through the doorway, a voice greeted them. "What are you two virgins doin' out here? Got a love affair going already?" Iruma sat by the fountain, smirking viciously at him, as if her words had any effect on him. "I bet you're coming to some dark corner to get di-"

"Wow Iruma-chan, funny how you're here!" Ouma cooed as he laced his fingers together in front of his chest. "We were just talking about how you're a desperate whore bitchlet! Small world, huh?" His statement had the intended effect when Iruma instantly squealed, fingers fidgeting together as she curled into herself.

"Come on, Ouma, that isn't true." Amami interrupted, a light smile playing on his features before he turned his attention to Iruma. "I came here to relax, what with the nice atmosphere, and Ouma kept me company on the walk. What about you?"

Iruma sniffed, not fully shaking off her sulking. "Well, I've been feeling kinda restless, so I wanted to do some inventing. And even a genius like me needs to get inspiration from somewhere, so I thought here would be my best bet."

"I didn't think this would be the kind of place you'd get inspiration from." Amami moved to sit on the fountainside with Iruma, seemingly comfortable in the company despite all odds. "In hindsight, it makes sense. This place is relaxing, so that probably helps your creativity."

Ouma hopped over to the greenery of the area, reaching out to closer inspect the flowers. Not that he cared, but it gave him something to do. He glanced at Iruma out of the corner of his eye. "Speaking of, is your lab open then? Is that why you're so eager to invent something?" 

She groaned, straightening from her sulking position and returning to her confidence. "Fuck no, but I wish it was. At the very least, if these assholes are gonna keep us here, they should get their shit together first!" After a moment, she snorted, stretching her legs out in front of her like a languid cat. "Not that it matters, since Monokuma's gone. I wish I got a hold of those scraps before the little shits grabbed them, I would've liked to see how something like that works."

Ouma paused as he fiddled with a red flower - he knew nothing about botany so he couldn't identify it. He dwelled on the question at the tip of his tongue, before caving into his curiosity. "Do you take requests or ideas for inventions? Y'know, with blueprints or whatever?"

He could tell Iruma was giving him an odd look, but paid her no mind until she scoffed. "Depends. If someone offers me an idea or a blueprint, if I think it's on par with my genius or otherwise deserves my time, then sure." He was pretty sure that she was bluffing, and that the short answer was 'yes', but he simply gave a hum of acknowledgement.

The question seemed to interest Amami too, who looked over at him with his own curiosity. "You have an idea for something? I'm all ears if you want to share - it sounds interesting." 

Ouma laughed lightly, turning to face them with a small shake of the head and a quirk of his lips. "No, I've got nothing. Just curious!"

* * *

Sometimes, sleep comes for you even when you're sure it won't. Like, for example, when you lay in bed, not because you're convinced you'll sleep, but because of the comfort of the furniture, and suddenly it's morning. 

Similarly, Ouma was lying in bed one moment, and suddenly was standing in a dark forest in the next. There were glimpses of colours and shapes within the trees, ones that were hazy but certainly had no right being in a forest. Above him was a star studded night sky.

He took a step forward, but halted when the ground rumbled beneath him. He took a curious step back, but the rumbling didn't cease. Cracks appeared underfoot, as if the earth was made of ice that couldn't handle his weight, and splintered outwards into a spiderweb. He didn't dare to move. 

Everything was still.

All at once, the ground gave way beneath him with a crack that rang in his ears, and gravity tugged him into the abyss. Instincts dictated his gaze above him as he instantly reached up to try and grab the edge of the hole that had opened underneath him, but it was no use. He was dragged further and further down, the blinking lights of the stars growing more distant as he fell. 

He felt panic in his ribcage, but he refused to look down. He didn't want to see the ground rushing up to meet him, _if_ there was even ground for him to meet. His eyes remained transfixed on the speck that was supposedly stars until-

His body hit the bed, and his eyes flew open, breath caught halfway in his throat.

It's 7:32am.

_("Less than two days left," breathed the part of him that worked in logic and numbers.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to: the relatively fluffy chapters. Enjoy it while it lasts!
> 
> This chapter was fun! I don't really have much to say, except for a few notes:
> 
> 1\. I got rid of the First Blood Perk, which is disappointing personally, because I think it's a really cool motive but it just,,,doesn't work except for the canon circumstance. I can't imagine that anyone else in the cast would kill someone and then choose to bet their life on the trial when they could get the easy way out, so we're downgrading to just the time limit.
> 
> 2\. Clearly, Amami won the FTE vote this time around, which I was really happy about! Ouma and Amami have a very sibling-esque relationship and their dynamic is fun to write. For variety's sake, I'm gonna randomise between the runner-ups and Amami for the next FTE, so there's a chance we might spend more time with him and there's a chance we won't. We'll see how it turns out!
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I'll see you next chapter!


	4. 1.3 : Time Limit Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It isn't that easy. It can never be that easy.
> 
> Well, Ouma already knew that.

When Ouma left his dorm room, he found the red Monokub waiting directly outside the door, so it was safe to say that it was already a bad start to the day.

"Hi! I'm just here to let you know that some of the Ultimate Labs a- hey!" Red huffed as Ouma locked his door and immediately pushed past him, a move that wasn't exactly hard when he was tiny. "I'm trying to tell you something important!"

"Yeah, yeah, here's the thing: I don't care." He shot back flatly, making a dismissive gesture over his shoulder as he made quick work of the stairs. He had lost interest as soon as the _Ultimate Labs_ were brought up. Red whined about something behind him, but he ignored him completely as he jogged to catch up with Hoshi, who was leaving the building. 

"Hey Hoshi-chan!" He chirped, smiling sweetly as he slipped out of the building behind him, pulling the door shut as he did. "You're up early."

Hoshi gave him a glance of acknowledgement, shoving his hands into his pockets as they walked to the main building. "This isn't early for me. Back in prison, we had to be up at sunrise, so 8am is a luxury for me." Ouma let out a sympathetic hiss through his teeth, but didn't apologise for bringing it up. He mentioned prison so casually, he was pretty sure Hoshi didn't care. "The bear bothering you? He didn't come to me, but I saw him stopping at some other dorms too, looked like it was at random."

Ouma let out a dramatic groan, dragging his hands over his face and gaining a chuckle from Hoshi. "Geez, it was so creepy, just opening the door and seeing him _there_ , y'know? He said he was gonna tell me something important, but I left before he could say anything."

"Important, huh? You don't think you should've heard him out?" The other muttered with a hint of skepticism that Ouma had no qualms scoffing at, even if it was justified.

"Nah, it probably wasn't _that_ important if they didn't mention it over the morning announcement, right?" He paused, a figure on the path leading to the left of the main entrance catching his eye, having presumably chosen to get to the dining hall from the outer entrance. Ouma lit up and instantly began sprinting towards them. "Kiiboy!" He shouted with a grin, then to be polite, threw a wave over his shoulder. "Sorry, Hoshi-chan, see you at breakfast!" He caught him shaking his head in amusement before turning his attention back to the person he was barreling towards.

Kiibo only had the chance to glance back before Ouma was crashing into his back, hugging him from behind and causing the robot to stumble to a stop before they both toppled over. "Could you be any more reckless?" He grumbled as Ouma giggled, pulling away from him with a bright smile. 

"Morning to you too." He teased, placing his hands on his waist as he scrutinised the robot, acting like a disappointed parent. "I haven't seen you since forever! I tried finding you, but it was like you just disappeared. Where were you?" 

"I spent the majority of the day with Akamatsu-san. She still seemed downhearted after the reaction to the tunnel, so I thought it'd be best to keep her company." Kiibo replied as he continued walking, seemingly focused on getting to the dining hall.

"Fair enough, I guess." Ouma followed, falling into step beside him as a cheeky smile appeared on his face. "Did you miss me?"

Kiibo stole a glance towards him, an expression of thought flickering over his face before he replied in a relatively serious tone. "I'd say yes, but seeing you again has only reminded me of your penchant for mischief. I may have to retract that sentiment."

Ouma gasped in mock offense even though his eyes gave away his delight, letting Kiibo push open the door to the dining hall before quickly darting in front of him to enter first, sensing his sigh rather than hearing it.

The atmosphere of the room was light, the underlying fear from yesterday almost completely gone. Not everyone was here yet, leaving half of the seats at the table free for Ouma to choose from, so he claimed the chair on Amami's right while Kiibo predictably sat beside him. Small talk filled the silence as Tojo began to distribute food - Spanish omelettes today - and the others slowly filtered in, an unspoken agreement to leave the elephant in the room until they were all gathered. Amami and Shinguuji were engaged in quiet conversation, like yesterday morning, but this time Ouma was close enough to realise they were talking about travel and monuments of some kind. He similarly found the joint efforts of Momota and (when she arrived) Akamatsu to engage Harukawa in conversation funny, especially when she seemed so uninterested.

He had finished his food by the time Chabashira arrived with a reluctant and half awake Yumeno in tow, instead playing with the pack of cards he got from the warehouse. With the entire class present, Momota seemed to take it as a cue to start a group discussion, made apparent by his instant prodding at the elephant in the room. "Man, I'm glad everything worked out. We could have been really screwed!"

"No kidding." Harukawa muttered, and maybe the constant prodding from Momota and Akamatsu _was_ doing something, even if she remained entirely unenthusiastic. 

"I think it's almost nice here, without the danger and everything." Chabashira stabbed her omelette with a fork, her words holding a hint of nervousness, as if she was scared to admit it. 

"Yeah, but I'm kind of wondering if anyone's going to come and get us." Shirogane mused, nursing a cup of tea. "It's been a couple days already, hasn't it? Someone should be coming to get us by now, right?"

"Oh, Gonta is sure someone is already on the way!" He smiled hopefully, the gentle giant he was. "The academy may be hard to find, but someone is definitely trying to find us. Maybe we just need to wait?"

Iruma scoffed in that way that she often did before she spouted bullshit, resting an elbow on the table. "Obviously. With a brilliant genius like me missing, hundreds of people are probably rushing to try and find us."

"But Iruma-chan!" Ouma gasped with a lopsided grin. "You can't possibly be talking about yourself, because _you're_ just a dumbass whore!" She squealed, and Kiibo nudged him with a small frown, as if that would make him regret his insult.

Akamatsu shifted in her seat, biting her lip. "Are we really sure there's no more danger? Not that I'm not glad that everything is over now!" She waved her hands frantically, eager to not be misrepresented. "It just seems too easy, doesn't it?"

"I dunno what you're worrying about." Yumeno said, sitting shockingly upright by her standards to be able to properly eat. "Monokuma's dead, right?"

"Indeed, I see no reason to waste energy on unnecessary what-ifs." Shinguuji paused, his single visible eye narrowing as he scrutinised Akamatsu across the table. "Unless, of course, you were looking forward to the events that would have followed."

The pianist blanched. "N-no, of course not! I'd never-"

Tojo shook her head, disapproving. "No, I believe Akamatsu-san's wariness is understandable, and in fact, I share it. The outcome of this situation was unusually lucky for us, after all." 

Amami wore an odd, unreadable expression. Ouma, never one to mind his own business, smiled. "What's with the face, Amami-chan?"

He glanced up from his food, offering a sheepish grin. "Ah, nothing. I agree with Akamatsu and Tojo, that it seems too easy, that's all." He folded his arms, leaning back as his eyes darkened. "If someone went through the effort to set this all up, I don't think they'd be stopped that easily."

Angie giggled, clasping her hands together. "Oh, nonsense! I'm sure we're safe now, because Atua must have saved us in one of His mystical ways."

As if to directly contradict her, it was at that moment a familiar bear appeared in the room. "And that's my cue, kuma!" Monokuma stood in all his glory, adorned in some additional accessories that made him look like some sort of spirit or ghost. The shouts and sounds of alarm from his classmates surrounded him, especially those who genuinely thought they were safe. Those who were skeptical simply grimaced, getting no joy from being correct in their paranoia. Ouma pulled his scarf higher. 

"You." Hoshi growled as he tugged his hat downwards. His hostility was aimed full force at the bear, even though he had been part of the group that resigned to the fact that his death wouldn't mean their safety. Then again, being an idealist or a realist didn't stop them from all hating Monokuma.

Harukawa, similarly, shot him a death glare and Ouma had a feeling she would have happily attacked Monokuma, if given the chance. "I thought you were supposed to be dead."

"But I am, kuma!" He insisted, despite being very clearly the opposite. "After a tragic car accident, I was reborn as a Yo-Kai. I am Jibakuma, and I will be your new headmaster, kuma!"

"Jibakuma?" Saihara repeated incredulously, and Ouma shared the feeling. This bear couldn't be serious, and if not, why the hell play this up at all?

"Yep, yep, kuma! I know this is all a bit of a shock, but I'm sure you'll all adjust quickly." The absolute irony of Monokuma sounding like a soothing kindergarten teacher almost made him want to laugh, but he didn't because he didn't want to break the heavy silence that settled over them. Nobody said anything in response, but everyone seemed to be in varying states of disbelief or annoyance. "What's with the silence? You kids were chatting up a storm before I got here, kuma."

"You're not going to convince anyone with such a low effort costume. Gosh, it hurts me to look at it for too long." Shirogane placed a hand on her cheek, an expression of mild disgust expressing how unimpressed she was.

Shinguuji, equally unimpressed, raised an eyebrow. "And that's without mentioning that you must have mistaken Yo-Kai for mere ghosts." He might have continued into an anthropology lecture surrounding spooky things such as ghosts and Yo-Kai, if Momota hadn't spoken up directly after him.

"Why pretend anyway? It's pretty obvious that it's you, Monokuma."

Apparently, he had enough backlash, because Monokuma began shedding his accessories with petulance. "You could've at least played along for a bit. Geez, you know-it-all teenagers - you're no fun at all! Kids would've eaten that up, no problem." He sighed, before instantly cheering. "But yes, it's true. Your wonderful headmaster is alive and well!"

At this point, the subsequent appearance of the Monokubs wasn't a surprise, but that didn't stop Ouma from pushing the playing cards out of the way and letting his head fall to the table with a soft bang. On one side of him, Amami chuckled quietly and on the other, Kiibo asked if he was alright. He ignored him in favour of listening to the cubs talk, noting that they genuinely sounded surprised at Monokuma's supposed resurrection. They started freaking out about whatever bear corpse they were cooking if it wasn't their father, to which they got confirmation that even though the cubs didn't have spares, Monokuma did. ("That much was to be expected." Tojo muttered, and Ouma agreed as he lifted his head just enough to watch through the curtain of his bangs.) Following that was the most disgusting family reunion he had ever had the displeasure of witnessing, which was mostly because Monokuma started licking his cubs in true bear fashion. He was tempted to finally end the pointless banter, and would have followed through with that temptation if Gonta didn't beat him to it. 

He was clearly hesitant to interrupt whatever interaction the bears were having, but eventually called out. "So...the killing game is still gonna happen?"

Monokuma glanced over, disdain dripping from his voice. "Oh, you guys are still here."

"No shit, we're still here!" Momota shouted, visibly frustrated already, and if he cared (or was being honest with himself), he might be concerned about a repeat of yesterday morning. "Just answer the damn question already."

Monokuma muttered under his breath, clearly in complaint before he spoke louder in announcement. " _Obviously_ the killing game is still happening. It never stopped! Speaking of," His red eye took on that sadistic glint once more. "I might as well remind you that you've got less than 48 hours until the time limit ends. So if you don't want a guarenteed death, you might wanna get a move on with your murder plans!"

"So what? We wasted a whole fuckin' day for nothing?" A tone of panic crept into Iruma's voice despite the forced relaxation of her muscles, her arms crossed tightly over her chest once again. 

"If youse bastards really wanna believe in the 'power of friendship', you can all die together!" Yellow suggested, words nothing but open mockery. "Ain't that cute?"

"You make it sound like dying is our only option." Hoshi pointed out bitterly. "Why wouldn't we work together if we're gonna die anyway?"

"If you kill someone, you have a chance of surviving! Geez, aren't you listening to me?" Monokuma huffed, paws on his waist. "Well, I may have a preference for what you choose to do, but in the end, it's all up to you. Die together, kill someone to survive, whatever. We'll see what the outcome is." And with his threat of a speech concluded, he left. The cubs continued to talk, but seeing as they had more pressing issues to worry about, the sixteen collectively decided to ignore them, because they were sure to leave soon with their father gone.

"Well, now what do we do?" Harukawa started bluntly, because this conversation was bound to happen sooner or later. If they ignored it, that would just end in their collective death, or worse. 

"Tomorrow night time is gonna be here in an instant!" Chabashira stressed slightly, her anxiety plain on her face. "Not to mention the fact we wasted a whole day because we thought this was already over."

"We didn't waste the whole day. We worked very hard to try and find an exit!" Gonta argued, and though Ouma was sure he was trying to be encouraging, it fell flat when paired with the tremble of fear in his voice.

"Yes, but that only helped prove that there isn't any possible exit aside from the underground tunnel, which we have already established is impossible." Shinguuji said gravely, shutting down that train of thought before it got any farther. That was probably for the best. "The reality is we are being forced to make an uncomfortable decision. There's no other way around it."

Kiibo straightened in his seat at the finality of his statement, exclaiming. "No, there must be _some_ way around it. I'm sure if we take the time to think things through, we'll-"

"We don't have any time to think, though. That's the whole point." Yumeno cut him off, readjusting her hat as it tilted haphazardly on her head. "Well, at least if someone has to murder, we have an obvious answer. I don't think killing a robot is as bad as killing a person."

"It absolutely _is_ just as bad! Don't say such blatantly robophobic things, Yumeno-san!" Kiibo scolded, if it could even be called that when he spoke with such emotion. Ouma suspected he only reacted that badly because he was scared someone would take it as an idea. 

"Hey, don't talk like that." Akamatsu said with a determination that wasn't quite as strong as it was before, but certainly more than what she had earlier this morning. The confirmation that their lives were still in danger must be spurring her onwards. "Kiibo's right - we can probably figure out something! Right?" She didn't sound particularly confident.

Fortunately, Momota had more than enough confidence to go around. "Right! Don't worry guys, I'll figure something. The most important thing is that we don't panic, okay?"

Harukawa raised an eyebrow. "Got any ideas, then?" Momota spluttered for a moment, scrambling for something to save face, and she rolled her eyes. "Typical."

"I don't want to die but...we don't have many options, do we?" Shirogane said tentatively, no longer bothering with her food. He couldn't really blame her - if he hadn't finished eating already, he wouldn't be able to.

"Then we have to fight!" Chabashira suddenly shouted, though she seemed more like she was grasping at straws. "A sneak attack from behind, maybe. That might give us more of a chance to beat them."

Gonta seemed to latch onto the idea too, eyes brightening with determination as his hands formed fists. "Oh, if we fight, Gonta can use his body to shield everyone! He can use his strength to help defeat Monokuma."

"Nice idea, guys, but I wouldn't recommend it, seeing as violence towards Monokuma is against school rules. You'd get killed by an Exisal before you could get close." Amami didn't speak unkindly, but it still earned him a sharp glare from Chabashira.

"Yeah, not to mention it's just incredibly stupid." Ouma laughed humorlessly, propping his head up with a hand. "I mean, you'd basically just be repeating Momota-chan's attempt from yesterday, and that didn't really work out well of any of us, did it?"

Momota looked away, what was once pride replaced with shame. Angie looked between then all, before chirping up in a way that didn't sound very convincing. "It's okay, I'm sure we'll be fine. Atua will protect us! And if we die, He'll welcome us with open arms, so there's nothing to be scared about."

"Nobody gives a shit about your fake fuckin' god!" Iruma snapped, sulking in her seat. A crushing silence blanketed over them, the threat of death weighing heavy over their heads. Ouma had never believed they were safe, but simply sitting in the room surrounded by such intense hopelessness made his stomach twist uncomfortable. The quiet was broken by the screech of a chair being pushed back, Saihara standing up from his uneaten breakfast. The action drew everyone's attention, and he seemed aware of this as he lowered his head to keep himself hidden under his hat. Akamatsu's eyes softened with concern.

"Saihara-kun? What are you doing?"

He stepped away from the table, pushing his chair in as he fumbled with his words. "I'm going to leave. I don't think - or I guess, I know - I won't really be able to contribute much to this conversation so I don't see much point in staying." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, slowly stepping backwards. "It's, uh, probably pointless, but I wanted to get another look around the school, just to make sure we haven't missed any hidden exits or anything." Saihara nodded, seemingly happy with his explanation, and then hurried away with quick steps before anyone could stop him. 

"...That sounds like a good idea." Shirogane commented lightly, when the silence persisted a few moments after Saihara's departure.

"Honestly, I think he just wanted to get away from all this tension." Hoshi muttered, pulling a candy cigarette from his pocket. "Can't say I blame him. We're not really getting anywhere with this discussion, are we?"

"Not really, no. We're talking in circles and reaching no conclusions." Ouma mused, straightening fully and dragging his cards closer to him again, fidgeting with the topmost card absentmindedly. "Y'know, maybe we should just call it quits for now, give us all some time to cool off, and then make a decision later once we've all processed it and have a clear head."

Momota instantly opposed him with curled fists, something that he should have expected. "Hell no! We can't just _give up_!"

"I don't think he's suggesting we give up entirely." Tojo soothed, before her expression pinched and her attention narrowed on Ouma. "However, I also don't think what you're suggesting will work. We don't necessarily have the time to clear our heads - we have to make a decision before the time limit."

"You think I don't know that?" Ouma shot back, face falling carefully blank. "You keep talking about how we have almost no time, and that's true, but we also have _some_ time. 37 or so hours is more than, say, 12. It could be worse, sooo we should use what we have to our advantage. We still have tomorrow morning to make our decision, so we can use today to process." A bright smile took over his face. "Cool?"

For a moment, nobody responded; they were considering. Then, Harukawa groaned and stood up. "Whatever, that sounds fine. Now, if we're done here, I'm leaving too." She didn't wait for a response, pulling up the hood of her hoodie and exiting through the outer entrance. 

With her departure, it seemed a collective agreement had been made, whether they were happy about it or not. They would make their final decision tomorrow, at breakfast. Everyone went back to what they were best at - ignoring the current situation by making small talk. A few left immediately, but Ouma was too busy shuffling his cards to care about who it was exactly. Kiibo was talking to Shirogane, who seemed to be extremely excited by him and kept firing him questions, weeb she was. His attempts to remain polite while firmly claiming her every assumption as robophobic was nothing short of hilarious. 

"Hey, Ouma."

He looked up at the call, catching Yumeno's gaze from across the table. He spared her a smirk, gaze flickering down as he tapped the cards on the table, to straighten them out. "Yumeno-chan! What do I owe the pleasure?"

Chabashira eyed him warily from her side, as if Yumeno hadn't been the one to ask for his attention. "Can I borrow your cards? I need some to practise my magic with."

"Wait, you can't borrow things from him! He'll think you owe him, the degenerate he is." Chabashira whispered hastily to Yumeno, but not very quietly, because Ouma, to his amusement, could still hear her from where he was sliding the deck of cards back into its box. 

Yumeno rolled her eyes, visibly fed up with her shenanigans. "Then I can turn him into a toad. I'm a _mage,_ Chabashira. I can protect myself." The statement seemed to fluster Chabashira, who instantly began to apologise, but Yumeno ignored her. "So can I have the cards?"

Ouma gave a long hum, looking at her with a critical eye, as if he were a magical shopkeeper considering giving away his most precious ware. "To borrow for practise? Sure." He allowed her eyes to light up before he continued with a mischievous grin. "But! I wanna watch you practise. I really wanna see your magic in action, y'know?"

Chabashira narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but said nothing in respect to Yumeno, who was frowning lightly in thought. "I guess that's alright. It'd be a pain to try and find you to return the cards later, anyway." She rubbed her eyes, her fatigue fading slightly with something to focus on, or rather, look forward to. "I think Angie wanted to see me perform too, so we can do that after breakfast."

* * *

One could argue that there were better things he could be doing with his time rather than sitting in classroom B watching Yumeno shuffle playing cards, and Ouma would agree. That, however, did not stop him from doing exactly that.

Angie had pushed two desks at the front of the room together, so she could sit directly next to him while Yumeno tried to perform her "spell" in the space at the front. Frankly, he was certain this was going to be a card trick, which was unfortunate considering he knew how most card tricks worked which therefore took away the fun, but he wasn't going to say anything. The magician still thought he believed in her magic, and he didn't care to correct her when the misunderstanding was entirely his fault.

As Yumeno prepared herself, which mostly consisted of shuffling the cards and hyping herself up for performance, Ouma's attention drifted to the girl beside him. Out of boredom, he leaned closer to her, speaking in a whisper and lifting her hand in an elaborate show of secrecy. "How do you and Atua feel about magic? I heard some religions think it's, like, the work of Satan or something."

Angie brightened at the question, thrilled to be asked about her god. "Atua believes magic is a good thing when it is used to bring happiness to others, and I agree. That's why I'm so excited to see Himiko's magic!"

"Happiness, huh?" He murmured, because he really couldn't help being intrigued by the concept of Angie's god, even if he didn't believe it existed in any capacity except imagination. 

"Yes, yes, Atua wishes to guide us all to peace and happiness, so anything that causes them is good." Angie explained, smile patient and eyes enthusiastic. Peace and happiness sounded nice, he'd admit, but it was extremely idealistic. He didn't point it out, but even if he wanted to, he didn't get the opportunity as Yumeno called for their attention.

"Ahem!" She said it in a way that made it clear she was slightly annoyed, before making a lazy sweeping gesture with the hand not holding the cards. "I am now ready to show you my magic. Prepare to be amazed by the wonder and skill of the Ultimate Mage!" Her movements and speech were slow, but she was more energetic than he had ever seen her.

Angie clapped excitedly, and Ouma made a show of leaning forward in interest. Yumeno, seemingly content with this response, gestured to the stack of cards. "First of all, I will guess an unknown card correctly, using my magic to read your mind." She stepped closer to them, then fanned the cards out and held them out to Ouma with a cliché: "Pick a card, any card!"

He snorted, but smiled as he pulled one of the cards from the selection, always able to appreciate good theatrics. He flipped it over, making sure Yumeno couldn't see it. Angie leaned over with visible interest, and he decided to let her see it too, subtly turning it to face her. Seven of spades.

"Oh, how interesting." She gushed quietly, even though it was only a playing card at the moment.

Yumeno cleared her throat to get their attention, holding the cards out again. "If you've memorised the card, put it back in the deck."

"Okie-dokie." Ouma slipped it back into the deck, nodding with a faux expression of wisdom. "That was a very good card, y'know. One of my favourites."

"Yeah? Then was your card…" The magician trailed off as she quickly shuffled the cards, looked through them and plucked one from the rest. She flung it onto the table, and it skidded to a stop in front of her spectators. "The seven of spades?"

Angie gasped, before beginning to cheer as she applauded the magic trick, already knowing the answer. Ouma let out an impressed whistle, flashing a grin. "It sure was! Geez, I wasn't doubting you before, but this really does prove you're magic." 

Yumeno practically glowed with pride at the praise, collecting the card and beginning to shuffle again. "Thank you, thank you, but don't get too excited yet. This is only the beginning." 

Angie laced her fingers together, tilting her head as she looked at Ouma with a sunny smile. "See? Doesn't it make you happy? Magic can be used to cheer people up, which is why Atua and I enjoy it."

"Of course it can. And this is only my magic being disguised as tricks. Imagine how much happiness my magic could spread if it could be used at its fullest." Yumeno interjected smugly before Ouma had a chance to respond. He had no issue with this - he was fine watching her hand Angie the deck of cards to explain her next trick. "Now, separate these cards into four piles, one at a time. At the end, when you turn the top card over, I'll use my magic to turn them all into aces."

"Ooh, okay!" Angie cooed, easily distracted from her attempt to convert Ouma or whatever it was she was doing prior, following the instructions and dealing the cards into four stacks. The three of them made small conversation as she did, nothing of importance, and when the top cards were all revealed to be aces, Ouma indulged them with a believable act of shock as opposed to the exaggerations he often favoured.

Card trick after card trick followed in a similar fashion, until soon enough, the inevitable happened. Ouma grew bored, and reached out towards Yumeno while she was readying for her next trick. "Hey, can I have the cards for a sec?" She seemed confused, but readily handed them over regardless.

"Why?"

"Because," Ouma grinned mischievously, shuffling the cards himself. "We're playing Go Fish now. Pull up a chair!"

Yumeno grumbled under her breath, clearly upset by this turn of events, but still dragged a chair over to the joint desks. Angie, simply happy to be in company, adjusted to the change of pace easily and with excitement. Interestingly enough, the three of them were an equal match in the game, which was new - Ouma usually didn't have much competition. Obviously, he had been playing with the wrong people!

They played a few rounds before Yumeno retired to her room for a nap, at which point Ouma and Angie switched to playing Crazy Eights. Despite his earlier reservations, he found her company fun, or at the very least, a good distraction. She was extremely expressive, even if it was under a veil of joy, and he could respect that. Plus, when she was focused on something like their card game, her occasional mentions of Atua were easy enough to tune out. 

Eventually, he parted ways with Angie when she declared that she wanted to go and cheer up someone else, as that was what Atua wanted. As much as her company was appreciated, he was more than happy to let her go. However, that also left him with no distractions, and with nothing better to do, he made another detour to the school shop while he figured out what to do. 

Searching for an exit was a no go, but doing nothing was practically accepting death with open arms, which he wasn't exactly excited about. The only way he could imagine surviving now was by beating the mastermind directly. Or masterminds, if that was how it turned out. But _that_ opened an entirely different can of worms, because who knew if the mastermind was in the school? There was a possibility that one of his classmates knew something they were keeping secret, but if they were keeping it a secret then it was unlikely they'd share any information willingly. 

He got a bottle of oolong tea from the MonoMono Machine, pulling a face as he read the label. Ouma infinitely preferred tea to coffee, but even then, oolong wasn't something he was fond of. He considered trying to give it to someone else, like that beret he gave Amami, but specific tea tastes were less easy to guess than style.

He let out a long, suffering sigh, resigning himself to wandering around until he found someone to latch onto. It really shouldn't be too hard; the campus wasn't particularly large, and there were sixteen of them, so the probability that he'd run into someone was high. Granted, that didn't mean he expected to immediately spot Saihara in the warehouse, but he wasn't complaining.

Ouma approached with silent footsteps, watching with curiosity as he turned a disposable camera over in his hands, engrossed in his inspection. A mischievous grin bloomed on his face moments before he reached out to grip his shoulders with a shout. "Boo!"

Saihara jolted and whipped around, only to relax as he noticed his casual grin. Belatedly, Ouma realised that sneaking up on someone may not be a brilliant idea in a situation where people could be out to kill you. He smiled, polite with an awkward chuckle. "You shouldn't scare me like that." He turned back to the shelf, setting the disposable camera down. "Did you need something?"

Ouma hummed in thought, stepping out of his personal space as he folded his arms behind his head. "Nope, not really! I just wanted to see if you wanted to hang out."

The other froze, glancing at him over his shoulder. "Really? I- I'm not sure how entertaining I'd be." He turned again to face him, smile warped with nervousness. "With this killing game going on, I haven't been able to think of much else."

"Yeah, 'cause of anxiety. You've said that! But you know what helps with that?" Ouma leaned forward with an excited glimmer in his eye, pausing for dramatic effect despite not wanting an actual answer. "Distractions! And here I am, graciously offering to distract you from your thoughts with my wonderful presence." He placed a hand on his chest, bowing his head benevolently. Then, to sweeten the deal, he pulled the bottle of oolong tea from where he had stuffed it into his pocket, offering it to Saihara. "Plus, I've heard oolong is pretty good for reducing stress and stuff."

Saihara blinked, and he gingerly accepted the bottle. He didn't respond for a moment, smoothing the label on it with his thumb before smiling slightly. "Thank you." He whispered, before his attention shifted to Ouma. "I appreciate you wanting to help me but...are you sure you want to hang out with me? Again, I don't think I'll be very interesting to talk to."

Ouma shot him a deadpan look, raising an eyebrow. "C'mon, you're a detective, you're, like, interesting by default." He grabbed Saihara's free hand, beginning to drag him out of the room because he wasn't sure if he'd follow otherwise. "Anyway, who cares if you're interesting or not? I said I want to hang out with you and I mean it!"

Saihara sighed, but fell into pace behind him, accepting his fate and allowing Ouma to lead him along. They ended up at a table in the outdoor seating area, enjoying the sunshine and breeze. Despite the circumstances, he could appreciate the perfect weather they've had so far, leaning back in his chair as he watched Saihara fiddle with the bottle of tea, unscrewing and screwing the cap repeatedly. 

"Sooo," Ouma drawled lazily, tilting his head back to allow Saihara some comfort with the lack of his gaze. Perhaps his previous enthusiasm had been too much pressure for him. "You're a detective, right? What do you actually do?"

"Technically, I'm only, uh, an apprentice." Saihara murmured, but it was conversation nonetheless, so Ouma counted it as a win. "But I work as a private investigator. Nothing huge, just background checks, infidelity cases and missing persons, every once in a while."

Though his head remained tilted back, his eyes slid downwards to observe Saihara through his bangs, curiosity developing. "Really? I guess that makes more sense. My assumption was murder cases and things like that, but that's just the stereotype, huh?"

He spoke lightheartedly with a grin, but noticed Saihara's fidgeting with the bottle falter for a moment, tensing. A blink, and it was as if he never paused. "Ah, yeah, that is the most advertised version. There are detectives that specialise in, um, homicide, of course. Personally, I don't handle those kinds of cases, partly because my uncle's agency doesn't typically get them and partly because I prefer the less...intense detective work anyway."

"Right, right, makes sense." Ouma hummed, leaning forward to prop his elbow on the table, and his chin in his palm, having given Saihara enough reprieve from his gaze. "Your uncle's a detective too? Does it run in the family or something?"

"Not really?" Saihara replied, switching from fidgeting with the bottle cap to tapping his fingers on the neck. "I mean, we probably have more of an inclination for law enforcement than most families. My great-grandfather was a detective and my grandma was a police officer, but it's not like we all are."

"Wow. That's super interesting!" He grinned encouragingly, cocking his head despite not being completely invested. Saihara's conversation was stiffer than most of the others', but again, it was probably a miracle he had made it this far to begin with. "So did your uncle open the agency himself? Seeing as it isn't a hand-me-down business."

"No, he actually inherited it from the previous owner." Saihara let out a soft laugh, pausing his fiddling entirely as he properly opened the bottle, leaving it on the table. "Ironically, the previous owner is my aunt's dad so if you count in-laws, it's a family business."

"Oh, if it's a family business, then you might it inherit it next, right?" Ouma perked up, leaning more heavily against the table to express his excitement. 

Saihara hid under the brim of his hat, embarrassed by the eagerness. "Well, maybe, but it's not like my uncle is training me to be someone to take over for him. There's much better detectives working for his agency, so I'm sure they'd be considered for inheritance before me." There was an unspoken undertone of 'if I get out alive' that they both pointedly ignored, as the detective shook his head. "A-Anyway, enough about me. What about you?"

Ouma pouted behind the barrier of his scarf, not particularly thrilled to be talking about his personal life, before showing a smile when his scarf slipped down. "I thought you'd never ask!" He pushed his chair back to balance on two legs, appreciating that Saihara didn't point out the safety hazard. "Now, let's see…" He averted his gaze to the sky again, exaggerating his moment of thought. "I'll start with my family too. I'm the youngest of eight, so y'know, it's a bit of a busy household."

"I-I'm sorry, did you say eight?" Saihara interrupted, visibly surprised, and Ouma merely smirked back.

"Yeah, five boys and three girls. Though," His voice dropped to a whisper. "If we're being honest with each other, I'm pretty sure three of my big brothers are from affairs, but my parents aren't admitting anything. They're joint heads of a criminal gang, so they can't let anything get out."

"Is that so?" He seemed to realise that he wasn't telling the truth and Ouma bit down his cheeky grin, shrugging casually.

"It's a bit dramatic, honestly. My parents tried to get me roped up in the gang when I was younger. I wasn't interested, so I ran away to live with a school friend, but my older brother tracked me down. I had no choice but to kill him." If he was going to lie, he might as well try to keep his facts consistent. 

Saihara finally took a sip of his tea, before sighing and seemingly playing along. "Was that one of your half-brothers or-?"

"Oh no, that's the most ironic thing!" Ouma laughed, finally letting his chair drop back to all four legs as he slammed his hands down. "That was my fully biological brother! To be fair, he was always a bit of a dick. He was, like, the oldest out of all of us, so he saw himself as the heir to the gang and shit. You know how it is."

He nodded in understanding, before offering an amused smile. It was a gesture that showed that he was relatively comfortable in the conversation, and Ouma took notice of that. "To be honest, I don't think that's the truth. I don't know if the entire thing is a lie, though. It wouldn't be completely unheard of to have seven siblings."

"Six, actually. What with the dead eldest." Ouma corrected with a sly grin, happy to let Saihara try and pick apart any truth from his spiel, even if there was none.

He did say he'd give him a distraction.

* * *

He should have known that two full nights' sleep in a row was too much luck. Ouma sat on his bed, back against the wall and knowing for a fact that he wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon. He might have looked through the meds in the warehouse for sleeping pills if he wasn't paranoid that they weren't what was said on the tin.

He groaned, pulling his knees up and resting his cheek against them, checking his Monopad for the time for the thousandth time. 00:47am. It served him right for holing up in his room before nighttime, he supposed, because that decision seemed to make time move slower. 

His gaze slid over to the whiteboard he had set up on the other side of the room. He had doodled a bit, made notes on whatever came to mind, so the surface was cluttered with pen in various colours. He didn't want to wipe it all off immediately, so that avenue for entertainment was closed.

Obviously, he couldn't just seek out someone else's company at midnight, because if they weren't asleep, they probably wouldn't want to deal with him. Except maybe...

Ouma straightened, groaning louder as he dragged his hands over his face. This wasn't a good idea. He was willing to say he'd take a nightmare over this hazy stretch of time that didn't operate in any linear sense and made him crave connection.

This wasn't a good idea, but he still found himself knocking on Kiibo's door a few minutes later. The possibility that this could lead to his death flickered across his mind, though he dismissed the thought as the door creaked open. Kiibo himself seemed visibly confused by his appearance, but the lights were on behind him and he seemed as alert as usual, so it was unlikely that he woke him up from whatever his equivalent to sleep was. "...Ouma-kun? Shouldn't you be asleep? It's extremely late, and sleep deprivation isn't good for your health."

The concern was sweet, but he didn't appreciate the questions because he didn't want to explain himself to any honest degree. He plastered a wide grin on his face. "Really? I had no idea!" It was overly condescending, and the downwards shift of Kiibo's eyebrows showed his unhappiness with his tone. Ouma softened, frustrated by the standstill. "Just- look, Kiiboy, I wanna hang out _now_. I don't care about the time, if you're not busy, let me in. Please?" 

He shot him puppy dog eyes, and watched as Kiibo's expression slowly relaxed into something akin to acceptance. He sighed, averting his eyes and glancing behind his shoulder, over Ouma's and finally returning to his face. "Well," He hesitated, before reaching into his gakuran pocket for his dorm key. Ouma pretended not to see. "If you insist, we could go to the A/V Room and watch something from their selection." 

Ouma lit up, his grin growing genuine as he stepped back, allowing Kiibo to exit and lock the door behind himself. "Oh, a literal movie night! You spoil me." He teased, jumping down the stairs two at a time, naturally switching to full energy when in company. Kiibo shook his head with another soft sigh, but he smiled as he followed him. 

They walked in relative silence to the A/V Room, the only exception being Ouma's upbeat whistling. He wasn't so much walking as he was skipping ahead of Kiibo, who still walked too slow for his tastes. The interior of the main building was different at this time of night, everything washed in a dark blue hue. The shadows in the basement were heightened by the lack of sunlight spilling down the stairs, but Ouma paid no attention to the darkness, heading straight to the Game Room and pausing at the doorway to track Kiibo by the glow of his eyes. Making sure he was keeping up decently, he continued his beeline to the A/V Room, throwing the connecting door open and turning on the lights.

He had already collapsed onto one of the couches by the time Kiibo entered, closing the door and turning his attention to the shelves. Ouma turned to lay on his stomach to better watch Kiibo skim the movie titles, with lazy eyes. "What do you want to watch, anyway? I'll be nice and let you pick."

The robot glanced at him with a blink of surprise, before giving a small smile. "I'm partial to comedy. I think the collection is separated by genre so if I…" Kiibo trailed off, looking around at the two shelves before letting out a quick 'ah' and crossing the room, presumably to where the comedy movies were kept. He started picking through the titles, puffing his chest out with pride. "I personally studied the art of stand-up comedy to better understand humour, so I'd like to think I have good taste in this genre."

"'Studied'?" Ouma snorted, pushing up to lean against the back of the couch, crossed arms resting on top of the cushions. "You know that saying stuff like that makes you sound less human, right? Literally every normal person on Earth would say they watched stand-up instead of studied."

Kiibo huffed, picking one of the movies from the shelf and stormed over to set it up, childishly ignoring him. "You were the one who wanted to spend time with me at this time of night, you don't have to mock me as well." 

He whined dramatically as he turned around to face the projector, wriggling to sink into the couch. "But I do it because I liiiike you! Mockery is the most intense form of flattery, y'know?"

The other's eyes narrowed as he came to sit beside him with the projector remote in one hand. "I believe the phrase is 'imitation is the most intense form of flattery'." Kiibo fiddled with the remote for a few moments, sitting ramrod straight, before finally pressing play and reclining into the couch. He set the remote down beside him with an upwards quirk of his lips. "But if you truly believe your version is correct, then you must like Iruma-san more than me."

Ouma gagged loudly, recoiling away from Kiibo's side of the couch as if he had been burnt. "Ew! The audacity you have to even _suggest_ that I like her - it's impressive!" He shuddered, shifting to pull his sceptre out of his belt as it pressed into his leg. "Nah, with Iruma-chan, the mockery is an insult. Your case is different. The phrase is kinda flexible like that, it's all about intentions." He leaned over the edge of the couch to put his sceptre on the floor, making sure it didn't start rolling. 

"I think you're making the phrase more complicated than it's supposed to be." Kiibo replied, but Ouma only responded by sticking out his tongue. The conversation dissipated as the two watched whatever comedy Kiibo had chosen. It wasn't anything special, though in imprisonment, he didn't expect it to be. In fact, he had a sneaking suspicion that the movie selection was somewhat rigged, if only because this comedy had a suspicious amount of jokes themed around death. 

It took an hour for Ouma to unfold himself from his position in the corner of the couch, in favour of shuffling over to Kiibo. He slumped against him without any warning, resting his cheek on his shoulder and wrapping his arms around one of his as he pulled his feet up. It was noticeably firm, which wasn't necessarily a surprise considering he was a robot, but manageable. That may have something to do with his clothing padding the material he was made of, but Ouma didn't care about details at the moment. He knew Kiibo shot a glance at him from the flicker of green lights, but he didn't say anything in protest or move away, so he took that as a good sign and stayed where he was. He couldn't help but notice that Kiibo was unnaturally warm; was he overheating? Was that a thing that could happen? Either way, the heat was coaxing his eyes to close, and in a horrible and ironic twist of fate, he found himself fighting to stay awake. He may like Kiibo, but that didn't mean he trusted him _that_ much. 

Luckily, he had a distraction in the form of Kiibo, who began to speak as the credits started to roll. Unluckily, his distraction was also in the form of a stupid question, even if it was asked hesitantly. "Why do you lie so much?"

Ouma scoffed, eyes fixed on the screen despite it only showing scrolling text. "I don't lie that much." He said, which in itself was a lie and therefore disproving his point. 

"Even if that were true," Kiibo spared him a glare to make sure they both knew he didn't believe him, but didn't push him off of him. "You still seem to have an aversion to the truth that I can't comprehend. You prefer to hide the truth, at least to some degree, from the others despite knowing it. Why?"

He pressed his cheek into his shoulder, eyes squinting in displeasure as the screen faded to black. He considered faking sleep to avoid answering the question, but knew that if he wanted to do that, he shouldn't have responded at all. After a long moment of silence, Ouma let out a muffled chuckle lacking emotion. "There's only one truth, and sometimes it can be harsh. What's wrong with protecting the others with a couple white lies?"

"But in this situation, hiding the truth could do more harm than good!" Kiibo was shifting now, elbowing him lightly in the stomach. He took the hint and reluctantly untangled from his arm, pulling away and raising his scarf to sulk. The other sighed, turning to face him fully and making eye contact. "You lied about believing Monokuma was gone for good in an attempt to lower tension, but now it's worse than it initially would've been. Surely it would be easier for you, and safer for the collective, if you spoke your mind more often."

Ouma clicked his tongue, smirking as he reclined against the couch. "Y'know, I speak my mind a lot. Actually, most people want me to _stop_ speaking my mind so much."

Kiibo shook his head with a frustrated little grunt. "No, you know what I mean." He took a moment to collect himself, and Ouma allowed him to do so uninterrupted, if only out of curiosity for what he'd say in retort. "I want to make sure that you don't put yourself, or the rest of us, in any more danger than we're already in. Not that I think you'd want to do that!" He added quickly, taking away Ouma's opportunity to start crying in fake offense. "Just try to be more open. Please?"

He grimaced, averting his gaze as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You're not allowed to ask that when I'm already more 'open' to you than everyone else, and all in the span of three days. It's a miracle, honestly!" He paused, then added with a hint of malice. "What do you know about vulnerability anyway? You're a heartless robot, not a human."

Kiibo's resulting flinch, a flash of hurt and anger, made Ouma regret the jab enough for him to burrow his nose into his scarf and mumble. "That was a lie, by the way."

Another awkward beat of silence passed. Kiibo deflated, eyes falling to his lap as he held his hands together. "Lie or not, that was insensitive." He murmured, fidgeting with his gloves. It was a fragile moment that Ouma would blame entirely on the time of night, and vanished quickly when Kiibo's gaze rose again, determined. "I'm not telling you to share anything personal, if you're not comfortable. What I'm asking is that you share your genuine thoughts more often. It might help."

Ouma tugged at the ends of his sleeves, rolling his eyes. "I guess I can try." His tone was flat, and he kept his expression guarded by his bangs, but Kiibo seemed to accept this answer as he got to his feet with a small nod. He moved to the projector to take out the DVD.

Apparently, both of them were done with the current, tense conversation, because Kiibo didn't try to get a more enthusiastic agreement from him. "Do you want to pick the next movie? Seeing as I picked the first one, it's only fair."

He grinned as he slinked off the couch, immediately going towards the comedy section of the shelves. "I thought you'd never ask!" He said cheerfully, with an energy he didn't feel. 

* * *

Ouma woke up lying on the couch, with a thin blanket over him. These were both surprises to him, considering he hadn't gone to sleep with a blanket over him, nor did he plan to sleep in the first place. He heard the soft sounds of a movie playing in the background, and assumed Kiibo was still sitting at the other end of the couch because of the start of a dip at his feet. 

He kept his eyes closed, mentally preparing himself for the day under the pretense of sleep. Once he felt as prepared as he could possibly be when considering the fact his life was in imminent danger, Ouma forced himself to push up into a sitting position, blinking sleep out of his eyes. He noted the slight aches in his limbs bitterly as Kiibo turned to him at the movement. "Where'd you get this?" He yawned before his companion could say anything, rubbing his thumb over the soft material.

"From the warehouse. I didn't want you to be cold." Ouma nodded in acknowledgement, brushing his hair out of his face. He wasn't bothered by it much - his hair was in a constant state of bedhead anyway, so he saw no need to fix it. Kiibo, however, seemed nervous by the lack of verbal response and carefully started speaking again, pressing his fingertips together. "I...would like to apologise for the conversation we had a few hours ago. Upon personally reviewing the incident, while my earlier opinion still stands, I believe I was a bit too direct in my approach. I didn't mean to pressure you, I just wanted to express my concern towards what I've seen of your habits. I'm sorry if I overstepped any boundaries."

Ouma openly stared at him because an apology was the last thing he had expected. Then, he shrugged, returning to his languid demeanor as he stretched his arms above his head. "Don't worry so much, Kiiboy. You've heard the kind of stuff I say on a daily basis - at this point, I'm basically immune to caring about other people's opinion of me." He kicked the blanket off, flashing a playful smile as he swung his legs over the side of the couch. "I appreciate the effort though. I mean, who doesn't love some good ol' fashioned grovelling?"

Kiibo rolled his eyes, and though he didn't seem fully convinced, he still relaxed at his words. Even if he hadn't expected it, Ouma was glad everything had been resolved as quickly as it began, if only for the sake of ease. "If you're sure." He used the remote to pause whatever movie he had been watching - still some form of comedy, if he had to guess - before getting up to put the DVD back. "The morning announcement is going to play in a few minutes, so we can go to the dining hall now, if you want."

"I mean, what else am I going to do? Go back to sleep when I have breakfast arrangements? No way!" Ouma laughed, grabbing his sceptre from where he left it beside the couch before standing. He returned it to his belt as Kiibo said something about asking out of politeness, his words immediately being drowned out by the sound of the morning announcement. 

He pulled a face, and Ouma giggled at his annoyance. He waited for the morning announcement to end (which took too many minutes, because the bears went on a tangent) before going to open the working door and gesturing out with one arm. "After you!"

The two made their way through the building at a leisurely pace, Ouma slowing his steps to keep in line with Kiibo. He folded his arms behind his head, humming a jaunty tune, the same one he was whistling the night before. Kiibo seemed to recognise it, because he was lightly bobbing his head along to the melody, even as he seemed focused on navigating the way. It only paused as they rounded into the entrance hall, at which point a warm smile slotted onto his face. "Good morning, Tojo-san!"

Ouma sidestepped Kiibo to indeed see the maid standing in the corridor leading to the dining hall, appearing to have been on her way to prepare breakfast. She returned his smile, friendly as ever. "Good morning Kiibo-kun, Ouma-kun." She turned to face them fully as opposed to over the shoulder, her eyebrows pinching together in confusion. "If you don't mind me asking, where were you two? You weren't coming from the dorms."

"We were in the A/V Room!" Ouma grinned, letting his arms fall from behind his head as he rocked on his heels. "We stayed up aaaall night watching comedy movies and stuff. It was fun!"

"I see," Tojo nodded, concern lingering faintly on her features. Her focus shifted from the two of them to solely Ouma, who was happy to soak up the attention. "Did you stay up the entire night? If you had trouble sleeping, I could save you a portion of food while you go back to your dorm room to rest. Or perhaps make you some chamomile tea?"

"Please ignore him." Kiibo cut in with a more tired smile before Ouma had the chance to formulate a reply, true or otherwise. "He did sleep, for at least a few hours. I was looking after him as he did." The wording was so oddly tender, that he found himself caught off guard by it. To retaliate, he whacked Kiibo lightly on the arm, hiding his wince at the pain that shot through his fingers. 

Tojo smiled lightly, and if she was annoyed by his earlier exaggeration, she didn't show it. "As long as he got some rest. With everything that's been happening, I can't imagine sleep deprivation would do any good."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." He huffed, faking indignation as he marched over to Tojo, nose in the air. Once he reached her, he flashed a grin. "Are you gonna make breakfast again?" Then, because that was a mostly rhetorical question; "What do you plan on making?"

"Of course. It's my duty to serve everyone, so the least I can do on a daily basis is make breakfast." She replied easily, but straightened as she grew more serious. He could hear Kiibo catching up to them with swift footsteps. "I should get going quickly so I can make a start on cooking before everyone else wakes up. I was planning to make both Western and Japanese options, but if you have any suggestions, I would be happy to take them into account."

Ouma giggled, waving her off. "No, no, just asking. Don't let us hold you back! You go on ahead, we'll get there eventually." Tojo only hesitated for a moment before she inclined her head in silent thanks and set off, the clicking of her heels following her departure. 

Kiibo and Ouma continued at their casual pace, with the latter eventually stepping in front and walking backwards instead. "What do you think'll happen at the end of the time limit?" He asked conversationally, as if he wasn't starting a discussion about their imminent death, watching Kiibo falter in his step. 

He recovered smoothly, though his face held mild concern. "They said we'd all be killed, right? I can only assume that they would keep to their word."

"I guess, but how would they get us all?" He raised an eyebrow, smile only slightly smug. "I mean, if they kill us by the Exisals, there are only five of them and sixteen of us. We could just run and hide, right?"

"I'm sure they would find a way. There's no point to a threat if there's no way to carry it out." Kiibo said, reaching out to lightly grab Ouma's sleeve before he tripped on something. "You're going to run yourself into a wall like that."

Ouma stuck his tongue out childishly, tugging his sleeve out of his grip but complying to walking in the correct direction. "Fine, I'll do it the _boring_ way." He teased, bounding around the corner to the dining hall entrance. 

"It's called being _safe._ " Kiibo corrected, though he liked to think that he was as amused as he was, picking up his pace without breaking into a run. Ouma didn't respond as he grabbed the handle, just gave him a bright grin as he opened the door and stepped inside. 

His playfulness evaporated as he noticed Tojo, not in the kitchen but stood by the table, where someone was sleeping with their arms hiding their face, perhaps to block out the light. She looked up as they entered, her expression grave. Ouma slowly began walking towards them, something sour in the back of his throat.

_(There was only one truth, but endless possibilities for lies. Ironically enough, he knew that statement to be true.)_

The room felt uncanny; it looked normal overall, until he realised that some of the chairs were dragged away from the table too far, or tucked in lopsided. The teacup tipped on its side, the contents spilling across the table. He walked faster, faintly aware of Kiibo following, and came to a stop a metre away from his sleeping classmate.

_(God, the truth, the truth, the truth. He hated it so much.)_

This angle revealed a bloodied stab wound in their gut, previously hidden by the tabletop. He recognised the sour taste as bile as it rose up his throat.

_"A body has been discovered! Everyone, please gather in the dining hall!"_

Yumeno Himiko, Ultimate Magician, was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so remember when I said welcome to the fluffy chapters plural?? Yeah, so that was a lie-
> 
> As it turns out, Saihara ended up winning free time, alongside a bonus FTE with Angie and Yumeno. It is also time for the obligatory "for god's sake ouma get your shit together" speech, courtesy of Kiibo. Thank you, Kiibo.
> 
> Deadly life is about to begin!! Thank you for reading, and I look forward to seeing you in the next chapter!


	5. 1.4 : Amateur Investigators

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With one of them dead, the culprit among their remaining numbers and the threat of death hanging over their heads - well, what else are they supposed to do, if not investigate?

Ouma didn't exactly appreciate the symphony of screams that announced his classmates' arrivals, because while they were understandable, they were worsening his newly acquired migraine. Though his eyes flickered to the entrance at the sounds, his attention remained primarily on the body as he reached up to massage his temples. Just yesterday, Yumeno had been good and well, playing Go Fish with him and smiling whenever she pulled off a card trick. Now she was gone. 

Fuck, she was _gone_. And one of them killed her. 

It made Ouma feel disgusting, because he could understand why someone would target Yumeno. She had been constantly lethargic and so painfully obvious about it - it would have been easy to assume that she would have been the easiest to overpower. It was a battle tactic, it was nature, it was the main rule behind survival of the fittest: eliminate the weakest first. 

The worst came when Chabashira finally got a glimpse of the body - she had been near the back of the entering crowd and some of the others had tried to stop her once they recognised who it was, much to her chagrin. Of course, she forced her way through and froze when she reached the front and the realisation hit her. A scream of Yumeno's name tore from her throat, anguished as her body lurched, as if trying to move towards her but ultimately deciding against it. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes as she spun to face the rest of the group, snarling as she shouted. "WHICH ONE OF YOU DEGENERATES DID THIS?"

Her hands curled into tight fists, but Ouma had a feeling she wouldn't throw them, because of the visible tremors wracking her frame as she ducked her head. Nobody responded for a few moments as sobs tore from her throat - everyone knew that whether Yumeno liked it or not, Chabashira had taken a shine to her, and Ouma had noticed that she, in particular, wore her heart on her sleeve. Slowly, Akamatsu moved forward, placing a gentle hand on her upper arm as she cast her a sympathetic look. Chabashira accepted the comfort, if only because it was from a girl, and the rest of them seemed to collectively agree to turn a blind eye to them. Instead, Ouma scanned who was there, counting the heads as he lingered close to Kiibo. One person was missing. 

Iruma arrived with a bang of the dining room doors and panted breath, narrowing her eyes at the corpse at the table. "W-What the fuck?!" She hissed, and though it may have been from the presumed running she did, he thought it was more likely that her paler complexion was due to fear. 

A chorus of screeching cackles answered her as the bear posse made their presence known, the smug aura around them irritating Ouma to no end. Monokuma's grin somehow looked wider than usual as he eyed the body. "Look at that! I don't wanna say I told you so, buuut I told you so!" It was a jab that was clearly directed towards Akamatsu, but she didn't react outside the subtle tightening of her jaw. He appeared displeased by the lack of reaction if his huff meant anything. "Anyway, in a few hours, a class trial will begin!"

"I don't think we need to remind you, but during the class trial, you'll be arguing over who you think killed Yumeno." Pink piped up, shuffling nervously. She was the odd one out that didn't like gore, right?

Red picked up where she left off, paws on his hips. "Get it right, and only the blackened will get punished. But if you get it wrong, the punishment will go to everyone except the blackened!"

"We already know the rules, you don't need to repeat them." Harukawa snapped, nails digging into her palms as she glared at the cubs. She seemed to be out of patience for their cheery banter and Ouma couldn't help but share the sentiment when he was hyper aware of the dead body in the room. The Monokubs, however, didn't appreciate it, and with some offended muttering, scurried away as if their presence would be missed or otherwise make Harukawa regret her words.

Monokuma shook his head, grumbling before perking up and gesturing at them expectantly. "Well then, what are you all waiting for? Go investigate! You can't exactly argue about who you think the blackened is if you don't have any idea, can you?"

"I'm guessing we're supposed to investigate it ourselves?" Amami said in that tone he took on every time anything regarding the killing game was brought up. Though his posture was calm, his eyes held something disturbed.

"Of course! Investigation is one of the best parts of the killing game. Getting to piece together what you think happened, alongside all the tension of knowing there's a killer among you." Monokuma sighed, making a show of near swooning before laughing. "What could possibly be more fun than that?"

" _Fun_?" Chabashira choked out from where she was huddled closer to Akamatsu, and ironically enough, the look she shot the bear could only be described as murderous, even with her red rimmed eyes. Just a few days ago, she had been cautioning the pianist against provoking Monokuma directly, yet here she was. "How would anyone find anything about this situation fun?!"

"Hey, I warned you guys, didn't I? I told you that you were all enemies. It's your own fault for getting attached." Monokuma scolded, though his tone was entirely too amused. "Why not try and turn that hatred into determination, and give it your all to find the person responsible? Time's ticking, after all! Meanwhile, _I'm_ gonna get something for ya." And with another squealing laugh, he left the room. 

And immediately, the room _exploded_ with commotion.

Apparently, the appearance of the bears had acted as suitable buffer time for everyone to process the situation, because this was anything but the tense silence it was before. Shinguuji glanced around the room, his facade of apathy off-set by something unreadable in his expression. "So this truly did end up happening. One of our own gave into bloodlust under the pressure of the time limit."

"Which one of you degenerate males did this?" Chabashira shouted, considerably less hysterical than the first time she asked, but equally angry. 

Perhaps it shouldn't be surprising that Momota replied in an equally loud, if not louder, shout. "Hey! You don't know for sure that the culprit is a guy!"

"Come on now-" Amami tried, his smile strained as his eyes remained dark. Whether it was due to suspicion or irritation, he couldn't tell, but he _could_ take a guess considering he was immediately talked over. 

"Who gives a shit if it's a guy or not? It's still one of you fuckers!" Iruma was visibly on edge, as she began wildly pointing fingers - literally. "It could be you! Or you! Or maybe you!"

"Yeah, real clever leaving yourself off the list." Hoshi muttered, more so to himself than to the room, but Iruma still heard him and retaliated in crude insult. Ouma's head felt like it was going to explode, and all he could think about was the dead body in the chair just a few metres away, the rotting corpse that was a classmate less than a day ago, he had to lie, he _had to lie to alleviate the tightness in his chest-_

"Shut the fuck up, all of you!" He yelled instead, zeroing in on a task (containing the chaos) to avoid slipping into a facade for comfort. It wasn't because of what Kiibo had said the night before, it just wouldn't be efficient in the current situation. Obviously. Ouma continued talking before anyone had the chance to shout over him, a hint of hissed bitterness in his voice. "Arguing isn't going to help with anything. It's not gonna bring the dead back, and it's not gonna get us out of the trial." Then, with an admittedly dramatic sigh, because he was never going to be completely genuine, he gestured towards Amami. "You wanted to say something, Amami-chan?"

Amami blinked, momentarily surprised by the sudden spotlight but quickly dissolving into a sheepish smile. "Yeah, I wanted to say that arguing won't help us, but I guess you already covered that." Then, his smile evaporated into seriousness as he folded his arms. "We can't keep pointing fingers. We need to- well, I guess trust might be too strong a word at the moment. We need to have a bit of _faith_ in each other. If we can't believe what anyone says, we won't have any idea what the truth of the case is and we'll all end up dead."

Angie puffed her cheeks out, furrowing her eyebrows. "I do agree that faith is important and sets people free, buuut one of us is still the killer. Believing everyone's word includes them, right? How would that work?"

"There's fourteen of us and one of them. If we're all upfront about what we know, it'll be easier to catch slip-ups from the culprit." Amami responded coolly, before cracking a casual smile that seemed out of place, strained. "I'm just guessing, though. I'm no detective. What do you think, Saihara?"

Saihara tensed as the metaphorical talking stick was passed onto him, eyes darting from the corpse to Amami, having clearly been absorbed in thought. Ouma would have doubted he had been listening at all if he didn't answer as quickly as he did. "No, you've got the right mindset. In this situation, nobody is really impartial. It would be easy to distrust everyone, but then we wouldn't reach a collective conclusion. It's best to believe in each other until evidence proves that the culprit is guilty."

"If you say so, you probably know best." Akamatsu laughed, a tight sound that fell short of uplifting. "With something like this, the Ultimate Detective would be most reliable. Besides, you sounded so confident!" Despite the compliment, Saihara merely dropped his gaze in silence. 

"So…we should start investigating?" Gonta asked after a moment of pause, fiddling with the strap of his bug cage. "Where do we even start? Does Saihara-kun have any ideas?" 

The detective's shoulders tensed again, but he didn't have to worry about answering, because Tojo stepped in before he had a chance. "My apologies, but before we begin, I would suggest that we work in pairs." There was a sudden determination that was different from her usual, neutral manner of speaking. "If the culprit among us is left unattended, they may tamper with the crime scene or the body, making it more difficult to find incriminating evidence."

"Oh, good idea." Shirogane murmured with a small nod. Out of the corner of his eye, Ouma noticed Kiibo shuffling closer to him, and took that as non-verbal confirmation that they would pair up. 

Kiibo brought a finger to his chin in contemplation, before looking up with resolve. "As for investigation, perhaps we could start with the surrounding area? I suppose we don't know the range in which evidence might be hidden, but I'd assume that most would be contained to the first floor."

Hoshi shrugged, folding his arms over his chest as if he wasn't visibly worried. "Sounds like a plan to me." His gaze hardened. "We should get moving, then. He said we only got a few hours, right?"

"That I did!" The group were far from happy with Monokuma's sudden reappearance, and Ouma hid the roll of his eyes behind his bangs. "That's why I'm surprised you're all still standing here like lambs waiting to be slaughtered!" He laughed at his own joke, and Ouma's attention was drawn to the tablet the bear was holding, suspicion rising. "Anyway, I guess it makes things easier, 'cause I've got something for you guys."

"What more could you possibly have to say?" Tojo said, and even she had underlying hatred in her voice, despite it barely showing on her features aside from an open glare. 

"Geez, don't be so ungrateful! I was gonna give you the Monokuma File for this case." The bear huffed, brandishing the tablet to present it to the class. "The Monokuma File lists details about the case, to help guide you in your investigation. You better appreciate it, because it's the only help I'm giving you." The explanation, admittedly, piqued his interest, and he didn't protest when Monokuma decided to single him out and hand him the file before he finally left. He ran one hand over the edge of the tablet, inspecting it and deeming it was almost identical to their Monopads. 

"There's no way we can trust that." Momota immediately stated, gesturing at the tablet with a frown - though considering the distance between the two, it could be easily mistaken as directed towards Ouma instead, which he found personally hilarious. "Not when _Monokuma_ gave it to us."

"On the contrary," Shinguuji raised an eyebrow, reaching up to readjust his eyepatch. "In a situation as dire as this, I don't think that taking advantage of anything Monokuma is willing to give us would cost us much. At the very least, it would be best to take a look at it."

"We can take turns." Ouma added as he turned on the tablet and watched the screen light up. "I'll look at it with Kiiboy first, but I can pass it around after I'm done, and then if you don't want to look at it like a coward, you don't!"

"Hey! Who you callin' a coward?!" Kaito shot back, sounding remarkably insecure in Ouma's ears. Either way, he didn't respond as the Monokuma File loaded, allowing him to read through it quickly with a vague awareness of Kiibo doing the same over his shoulder. For the way Monokuma advertised it, it really was a bit of a disappointment. Most of the information was things they could have deduced themselves, though it was probably wishful thinking to expect any more than that. Odd, considering Ouma wasn't usually the type to think wishfully.

He checked that Kiibo was finished reading, before handing the tablet to Tojo, who was closest to them. The class had split off into their pairs, so it was time to get to work. Ouma spun on his heel to face Kiibo again, hands on his hips as he exhaled through his nose, facing the robot's own expectant expression. "Sooo...we check the body now?" 

It was blunt, and Kiibo looked down in place of a wince, tugging at the fingertips of his gloves. "Yes, that does seem like a logical place to start." His gaze rose, his eyebrows lowering as he surveyed the area. He hesitated, but voiced his thoughts before Ouma could press him. "The chairs seem out of place, don't they? Nothing too obvious, but it still seems-"

"Like there was a struggle, huh?" Ouma finished, folding his arms behind his head. Kiibo blinked owlishly before nodding, gently pushing the chairs into realignment to make it easier to access the body. He trailed behind him, biting his lip to hide a grimace as he got to see the stab wound up close. It looked like what one would expect a stab wound to look like, but there was a contrast between knowing what something looks like and actually seeing it. It was situated in her stomach area, and there was no doubt in his mind that it had hit a vital organ, if the copious amounts of blood wasn't a good enough indicator. 

Knowing that he wouldn't get much more information from the wound itself, Ouma was happy to let his attention slide to Kiibo, who had moved to kneel by the body. He raised an eyebrow, leaning down to try and see what he was looking at without actually getting to his knees with a curious hum.

Raising to the bait, Kiibo leaned back to talk to him as he pointed at the seat the body was situated in. "Look, there's blood on the seat. I didn't notice any around the room, except for here." 

"Yeah, because it's directly under the stab wound. There's an obvious answer here." Ouma teased as he dropped his arms from above his head, and reached out to carefully pluck the teacup from the table, tilting it as he picked it up so a small amount of tea remained in it. He felt Kiibo's glare rather than saw it, but brushed it off regardless.

"You know that's not what I meant." Kiibo grumbled quietly, but didn't elaborate either as he straightened up again. He didn't need to - Ouma was smart enough to figure things out on his own quickly, and he took the lack of explanation as the other understanding that. "Though, I will admit there's something about this that confuses me."

Ouma clicked his tongue, swirling the meager amount of liquid left in the cup around. "What 'this' are we talking about? The investigation? The murder?"

"The latter." Kiibo admittedly quietly, his eyes darting to that circular plaque on the wall, and Ouma could already guess what the problem was, because it had been weighing on his mind since he first laid eyes on the body. "The rules state that the dining hall is off limits during nighttime, so that means the murder couldn't have been committed during nighttime, right?"

"Yep." Ouma replied, speaking slowly as he took a moment to think. "So it had to have happened before or after nighttime." He paused, before snorting. "Well, I guess that depends. You think the nighttime rules apply to corpses?"

Kiibo pulled a face, hesitating as he glanced at the body, then at the rules, before finally settling on him. "A morbid way to put it, but...I'm not sure. Most likely not? The punishment for breaking the rules is death, but death can't really affect someone who's already dead." It was then that he seemed to finally realise what Ouma had been doing, frowning at him with bemusement. "Should you really be tampering with the crime scene?"

"It's not tampering, it's called _investigating_." He pouted, lifting the cup towards his face to make a show of inspecting it, squinting dramatically. "What kind of tea do you think this is?"

"I wouldn't know. I don't know much about types of tea. I can't consume anything, and I didn't think it was information that would strengthen my bonds with others." Kiibo murmured, yet he leaned forward to try and take a closer look at the tea despite his words. Ouma stuck his tongue out, bringing the cup closer to his face, and yes, maybe this playfulness wasn't appropriate in their current circumstances, but it wasn't like it stopped him from investigating.

He had raised the cup to smell the tea and verify what kind it was, but once the smell actually hit him, he wrinkled his nose and swiftly moved it away to get another look at it. Kiibo furrowed his eyebrows in concern at his admittedly suspicious reaction. "Is there something wrong?"

Ouma grinned, shaking his head as he gently set the cup back down. "Nah, I just wasn't expecting black tea to smell like that. I prefer the less oxidised stuff, so I haven't smelt it in a while." It was a small lie, harmless really, but it soothed his nerves nonetheless. 

"If you say so." Kiibo said in a voice that made it clear that he didn't believe him, but he didn't press him any further, instead tilting his head to scan the room. "I suppose now would be a good time to take a look around the rest of the room?"

With a nod, the two began to make their way around the room. It was pointless though - with nothing important to note, it was more like a quick circuit of the room. As it turns out, most of the notable evidence had been condensed into the small area around the body, and he wasn't willing to admit that the lack of any other hints made him uncomfortable. He had almost missed the only exception, stopping abruptly on his way to check the connecting kitchen as he felt a draught come from the door to the outside seating area. 

Ouma ignored Kiibo's confusion as he walked over to it and stuck a hand through the gap between the doorframe and the door itself - it had been left ajar, hence the slight breeze from outside. That brought up more questions, but he settled for the easiest one as he closed the door properly and sent his partner a small frown. "Did anybody come through here this morning?"

Kiibo took a moment to remember, but seemed to have already caught onto what he was thinking. He was similar to Ouma in that regard; he was more observant than given credit for. "Not from what I saw. The only person I didn't see entering was Tojo-san, but considering we crossed paths with her in the hallways, it's safe to say it's unlikely this entrance was used this morning." He pursed his lips, glancing at the keyhole. "But it must have been from this morning. Surely it was locked during nighttime, in accordance with the rules?"

"Eh," Ouma shrugged, fluffing his own hair absentmindedly and watching his bangs shift. "I don't think so. I mean, if they kept it locked, it wouldn't have to be off-limits with threats of death because then you'd just not be able to get in. Unless you can lockpick, I guess." A beat, and then a sharp grin unfurled on his features. "Plus, knowing these sick bastards, I bet they'd love a chance to kill someone over something as petty as trespassing, and they wouldn't get the chance if they locked the doors."

It was one of those expressions he pulled when he felt uncomfortable and wanted everyone to feel the same, and it seemed he succeeded, because Kiibo cringed at his words and quickly looked away. "That does make sense, unfortunately." He mumbled, before someone else seemed to catch his attention. Ouma snuck a glance and instantly understood the robot's surprise, because _Chabashira_ of all people was heading directly towards them with an air of determination. "Chabashira-san? Did you need us for something?"

"Don't get it in your degenerate heads that I'm telling you this because I trust you. Because I don't." She immediately prefaced the conversation, stopping in front of the two with feet apart and arms crossed, her eyes narrowed. "But I thought it'd be helpful for you to know, because even though I don't like it, we need to work together to find the culprit." It sounded like something from Akamatsu, and he realised that she had been talked into this. It explained her begrudging attitude.

"As long as you don't chuck me across the room again, I'm all ears!" Ouma grinned, only marginally mocking even as Chabashira bristled. He cocked his head, placing one hand on his waist. "Why us, though? I mean, we have an actual _detective_ in our midst, wouldn't he be a better choice?"

Chabashira scowled, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Sure, if Saihara-san wasn't avoiding talking to everyone. He probably only paired with Hoshi-san because he knew he would leave him alone, the selfish male." She didn't say the words harshly, sounding more dejected than anything else. 

"I'm sure he simply wants to avoid distractions so he can concentrate on the case." Kiibo said with a small smile, a poor attempt at comfort. Whether he knew Chabashira was upset or was trying to improve her opinion of Saihara was unclear.

Ouma hummed lazily, waving a hand to dismiss the topic at hand, because he was ultimately more interested in what information Chabashira had to share. "Whatever, if he wants to keep to himself, we might as well let him. What do you know that you think is important?"

It was instantaneous. The confidence seeped out of her posture, and her expression gave way to something he hadn't been expecting to see - at least, not at this level of sincerity. _Vulnerability_. She was quiet for a moment, weight shifting from foot to foot as she tried to dispel her nervous energy. Ouma was growing restless, and he was about to prompt her again when she finally muttered, almost inaudible. "I- I think I might have been the last person to see Yumeno-san alive."

In hindsight, the admission made sense, but in the moment, he had been caught off guard as that was the last thing he had expected to hear. Because of this, Ouma wasn't able to stop himself from blurting out: "...What?"

Chabashira's flinch was subtle, but visible. Her nervousness made more sense now, as she was presumably harboring some sort of guilt alongside that knowledge. Unfortunately, Ouma wasn't the type to offer actual comfort in any situation, let alone when their lives were still on the line, and Kiibo seemed more focused on latching onto this new piece of information to notice it was needed. "Really? Could you give us more detail?" 

Recollecting himself, Ouma let a casual smile show as he rocked back on his heels. "We do need to get everyone's testimonies at some point, so we could start with you!" 

The generalisation seemed to help Chabashira relax. He supposed Kiibo demanding details _did_ make it seem like they blatantly suspected her, even though it wasn't intentional. She bit her lip momentarily, either in thought or hesitation, and nodded, firm and understanding. "Yesterday evening, Yumeno-san finally agreed to have tea with me, so we were here together."

"Wait, wait, wait." Ouma held up a hand, interrupting before Chabashira got any further and ignoring her glare. "You're being vague. We need to know when exactly this happened, so we can figure out a time frame for the murder. Y'know, to make it easier to figure out the culprit." His tone was condescending, but Chabashira's glare lightened nonetheless. Ouma already knew her grief hadn't been faked, but he had underestimated her drive to - well, avenge Yumeno, he supposed. He had been expecting some sort of snappy remark in return, but got nothing of the sort. 

Instead, she looked up at the ceiling, squinting as she took a moment to remember before her attention returned to them. "I think we came here around 8:30pm? We talked and had tea for a bit, but I finished before her and she kept telling me I didn't have to wait for her." Her arms shifted, looking less like they were crossed and more like she was hugging herself. Despite being increasingly uncomfortable, her gaze remained on them, open and unguarded as if to prove her honesty. As if they could afford to not believe her, with how few leads they had. "She insisted, so eventually I agreed to walk her to the bathroom and then left. That was just past 9pm. She hadn't finished her tea, and I knew she planned to go back to it after she finished in the bathroom, but I don't actually know what happened afterwards."

Kiibo nodded slowly, finger resting on his chin with that thoughtful expression. "What were you doing from 9pm to nighttime, then?" He asked, eyes focused. He seemed to be in his element, shockingly enough, but Ouma couldn't deny that he was too. Mysteries needed logic to be solved, after all, and logic was something they both thrived in. "And while we're on the topic, I also need to ask about what you were doing this morning, before the body discovery announcement."

"I exercised out in the courtyard until nighttime. Gotta keep my body in the right shape so my reflexes stay sharp!" Chabashira shifted into a fighting stance with a grin, almost as upbeat as before. That faded quickly though, leaving her with her arms hanging awkwardly by her sides. "Gonta-san was there too, but I was busy so I don't know what he was doing. As for this morning, I only came out of my dorm after...y'know." She gestured vaguely, but they both knew what she was talking about. "Most of the others were in the dorms too and saw me come out, and that's all I know."

"I see." Kiibo appeared to find her account satisfactory, as his features brightened into something more friendly. Interrogation mode was over, marked by his polite nod. "I hope I didn't offend you with any of my questions, but it is necessary to know as much as possible so we can seek the truth."

"Yeah, well, I don't." Ouma piped up, purely to be an annoyance and lighten the heavy atmosphere that naturally followed investigation, expertly ignoring the twin glares in his direction. He looked around the room, noting that while the majority of them were lingering, some had dispersed. "Are you paired up with Akamatsu-chan? We might as well get your partner's account before we go, so we don't have to chase you around later."

Chabashira's eyes narrowed in displeasure at his poor jab, before granting Kiibo a dismissive shrug and turning to call Akamatsu over, proving Ouma's guess right. The pianist looked up from where she was searching the area surrounding the body, pointedly avoiding looking at the corpse for more than a few seconds, and smiled as she came over. It was convincing, but Ouma could tell it wasn't genuine. "Hey guys. What's up?"

"Well, we kinda need your testimony so you two can be on your merry way." He explained far too briefly, before anyone else had a chance to answer. "None of the physical evidence is pointing to anyone in particular yet, so I'm pretty sure we won't be able to solve this without it."

"Oh yeah, that's a good idea!" She agreed, her smile growing brighter as she clasped her hands together. He noticed Chabashira step closer to Akamatsu, but he didn't draw attention to it. "So do you just need me to tell you what I was doing yesterday evening or something?"

"Specifically from 9 to 10pm." Kiibo corrected, all formal and focused again. Ouma noticed that he was considerably less expressive than usual, and had to wonder if that was because of the murder or because of the aforementioned focus. "And this morning, if you don't mind."

"Right, right. Let's see." Akamatsu mumbled, eyes wandering to her left. "Last night I was-" She cut herself off, a flush of embarrassment overtaking her as she cleared her throat. "Okay, so I was kind of trying to get through the underground tunnel with Momota-kun again because it seemed like our best option."

Chabashira straightened, suddenly on high alert. "Akamatsu-san, you could have told me! I would've helped you try the tunnel again so you wouldn't have to be alone with a degenerate." She sounded earnest, but Akamatsu laughed lightly in response, the lack of harsh reaction calming her sheepishness.

"It's fine! Momota-kun was the one who suggested it, and even if we didn't make much progress, it was nice to hang out with him." She refocused her attention to her testimony, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I was also with Momota-kun this morning. He was waiting for Harukawa-san, so I decided to wait with him. When the body discovery announcement played, I saw most of the others come out of their rooms, so I can back up any claims about that." 

"'Most'?" Kiibo echoed, inquisitive. "Could I ask who wasn't there this morning?"

"You two, first of all." Akamatsu's words lacked any judgement, which Ouma appreciated but didn't understand. He knew that, while both he and Kiibo had stable alibis for this morning, without prior knowledge their disappearance from the dorms was suspicious. "Then there was Tojo-san and Iruma-san. I saw everyone else come out of their rooms, so I assume they had all been waking up."

"Kiiboy and I were having a sleepover in the A/V Room, and we ran into Tojo-chan in the entrance hall just after the morning announcement." Ouma said cooly, a hand on his hip, resting against the top of his sceptre. His eyebrows furrowed. "Dunno about Iruma-chan though. We're gonna have to ask her about that." Then, with a flourish and exaggerated cheerfulness. "Well, thanks for the info, Akamatsu-chan! The two of you are free to go."

"You're welcome! If you need anything else-" Akamatsu started saying, but was promptly stopped by Chabashira grabbing her arm and pulling her out of the conversation, with some muttering of not encouraging them. Ouma snickered.

Finally, Ouma and Kiibo had the opportunity to enter the kitchen like they originally planned. At first glance, there didn't seem to be anything out of place, though it wasn't like he had expected there to be with the luck they'd had so far. However, it quickly registered that there were already three people in the room, talking to one another. Three. Considering the pairing system, he thought some clarification was justified, so he had no qualms about announcing his presence with a sharp question. "You three investigating together, or did someone lose their partner?" Because if it was the latter, it would be suspicious - and a lead. 

Of course, because the latter would have been helpful, Shirogane easily responds with a small smile. "Don't worry, we're a trio. We haven't lost anyone," She falters, clearly about to say something else before correcting herself at the last minute, more somber. "Else."

"It was an oversight on my part." Tojo added with a humble incline of the head. "When I suggested the pairing system, I forgot to take into account that we have one less person in the group." There was a collective wince, before Ouma decided to focus on the task at hand.

"Anyway, doesn't matter. We're here to collect testimonies!" He announced, playing up the dramatics and catching Kiibo's resigned sigh as he pulled his sceptre from its holster. He pointed at the other three - Shirogane, Tojo and Gonta - with a bright and unfitting grin. "What were you doing last night from 9 to 10? Shoot!"

"So you just need Gonta to tell you where he was?" Gonta seemed confused, but as usual, more than happy to help. "Gonta was in the courtyard, looking for bugs or an exit. He found nothing though." He seemed a bit disappointed, but Ouma didn't think it was anything important, so he ignored it in favour of the question on the tip of his tongue. 

Unfortunately, Kiibo seemed to have a similar idea and beat him to it. "Thank you, Gonta-kun. I do want to check something else with you though - Chabashira-san told us that she was exercising in the courtyard too. Did you see her?"

The entomologist's eyes lit up in recognition. "Oh, yes! Chabashira-san was there a bit later than Gonta was, but she was doing stretches, he thinks."

Kiibo nodded, seemingly satisfied, before turning to face the girls. "What about you, Shirogane-san? Tojo-san?" 

"9 to 10, right?" Shirogane asked, and with an impatient nod from Ouma, answered after a moment of thought. "I was in the A/V Room. I wanted to relax, so I went to see if there were any shows I recognised." She sighed, folding her hands in front of her. "There weren't, but I found a few that interested me anyway, so I stayed in there until 11pm."

Something about what she said didn't sit well with Ouma, and it didn't take a genius to realise what. "So you don't have an alibi, huh? Nobody saw you go in or out, or otherwise knew you were there?"

He made sure to keep his voice carefully flat, but it wasn't surprising when Shirogane gave him an apprehensive look. It didn't take a genius to realise what he was implying, either. "Am I a suspect?"

"I mean, we're all suspects, technically." Ouma said smoothly, shrugging as he twirled his sceptre in a show of boredom. He flashed an impish grin. "But I'll take that as a 'no', then."

Shirogane didn't reply, and though she was clearly unhappy with his behaviour, she relaxed. He didn't get why people acted so personally offended whenever they implied they were a suspect - the situation made it pretty obvious that suspicion was guaranteed - but as long as they weren't starting arguments, he didn't care enough to press.

Ouma tilted his head towards Tojo, raising an eyebrow in silent question, and was surprised when Kiibo responded instead, momentarily slipping out of his serious mindset with a sound of recognition. "I can testify for Tojo-san. She, Amami-kun, Shinguuji-kun and I were in the library during that time frame."

He might have felt betrayed that Kiibo hadn't told him this sooner, if he wouldn't have been a hypocrite for doing so. A small smile appeared on Tojo's face, an action to express gratitude as she hummed. "Yes, that is true. Although, on the topic of alibis, I believe Shinguuji-kun left at around 9:30pm. He certainly wasn't there for the full hour."

"Great!" Ouma groaned, louder than necessary as he holstered his sceptre. "Another person to actually interrogate. Keep that in mind, Kiiboy!" He glanced over his shoulder with a sly smile, and watched the other roll his eyes, exasperated as ever.

Ouma stole a glance at Shirogane and Gonta as Kiibo asked Tojo about her testimony for this morning, noting the lack of investigation on their parts. He assumed they were waiting to wrap up this conversation to move on, but if they really weren't bothering to begin with, that wasn't his problem. Annoying, maybe, but not detrimental to their chances of survival, as long as _some_ of them put effort in. 

According to Tojo, she didn't have an alibi prior to bumping into them that morning, but had been coming straight from the dorms. The timing made sense, between the morning announcement and their encounter in the entrance hall, and Ouma didn't notice any tells that might suggest she was lying.

"Though, before we continue our investigation," The maid brushed her hands down her skirt, before looking up with a glint of something akin to concern in her eye. "It may be important to note that a knife is missing."

"A knife?" Ouma repeated incredulously, even though there was a pretty logical explanation as to why a knife was missing. 

Tojo gave a simple nod, a frown on her face. "I took stock of the knives and other cutlery when I first started cooking here, for organisation purposes. I'm certain there is one less."

"Unfortunately," Shirogane piped up, with a hint of embarrassment. "We don't think anyone else was paying attention to that, so we don't know for sure." The 'if Tojo is lying' went unsaid, but if Tojo noticed, she didn't react.

"But it would make sense, right? I mean, Yumeno-san was-" Gonta's hands were balled into fists, and he looked away with clear sadness in his eyes as he hesitated in finishing his sentence. "Was _stabbed_ , so a knife makes sense."

"As the murder weapon? Yeah, it does." Ouma sighed, voicing what they all thought. It was a bit frustrating, because it was something that could have so easily been guessed, but evidence was evidence and clarification never hurt anyone. "Good to know."

He straightened up, placing his hands on his waist. "Well, we better move on if we're gonna get all these testimonies." He turned on his heel, waving a hand over his shoulder as grinned at Kiibo, who didn't seem to appreciate the abrupt end in conversation but didn't have any argument against moving on. "See you guys later!"

Gonta replied in kind, but Ouma wasn't paying attention, already stepping back into the dining hall and locking onto his next victim for questioning. Harukawa stood with her arms folded, a few metres away from where Momota was taking his turn at inspecting the body, looking somewhat bored. Ouma, gracious as he is, bounded over to her with Kiibo trailing close behind. "Harukawa-chan! Mind telling me what you were doing yesterday evening, 9 to 10?"

She shot him a look that made it very clear his presence wasn't welcome, even though it was surely helping with the boredom, before turning her head to look away. "Why do you want to know?"

"I dunno if you've heard, but there was kind of a murder and now our lives are on the line." He spoke slower, words dripping rotten honey, as if he was talking to a child. Her eyes flashed dangerously, her scowl becoming more pronounced. "We need to know where everyone was to figure out, y'know, _how the murder happened._ "

He may have been punched on the spot, if it wasn't for Momota's impeccable timing, and Kiibo coming to stand a step in front of him, because he recognised that Ouma was reckless and dangerously interested in reactions. The astronaut placed a hand on Harukawa's shoulder, who immediately shrugged him off, and flashed an optimistic smile. "Hey, what's up? You said you need to know where everyone was or something?"

"Yes, from 9 to nighttime and this morning." Kiibo confirmed with a weak smile, taking over talking from Ouma even though Harukawa had already calmed, gaze set across the room. "Though I suppose that, seeing as we already know where you were, we just need to verify."

Momota blinked, surprised. "You do?"

"Akamatsu-san testified for you, saying that she was with you during both periods of time. Is that true?" Kiibo explained with an air of patience, while Ouma, the exact opposite, tried to catch Harukawa's gaze from where she seemed to be resolutely ignoring the conversation. 

Momota placed his hands on his waist, realisation flashing over his features. "Oh, yeah! Last night, we tried taking on the underground tunnel again. Akamatsu got tired though, so we went back to the dorms at nighttime."

Harukawa snorted quietly in disbelief, as Ouma's own lips curled in amusement. He tugged his scarf further upwards, from where it had slid down and he hadn't bothered to readjust it. 

Momota shot them both a look that was less intimidating and more childish indignation. "And this morning, Akamatsu and I waited for Harukawa to get ready, so we were just talking by her door until the body discovery happened."

"She also said that the two of you witnessed everyone exit their rooms, exempting Tojo-san, Iruma-san, Ouma-kun and I. Is that correct?" Kiibo continued, ignoring the interaction between the other three for efficiency's sake. 

"Yeah, that sounds about right." Momota chuckled lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes flickered over to Harukawa expectantly, speaking up again when she didn't respond. "What about you, Harukawa? Might as well put it out in the open, before anyone can hold your silence against you."

She groaned quietly, lifting a hand to massage her temples. Ouma was surprised when she acquiesced - he was starting to expect to not get her alibi at all. "I was in my room the entire time. I don't have any witnesses, so there's no proof, but it's the truth."

"Don't worry, we believe you." Momota said with a toothy grin, leaning down just enough to make eye contact with her. She rolled her eyes and looked away, fiddling with the sleeves of her hoodie.

"Of course!" Ouma cooed with subtly narrowed eyes, obscured by his bangs. Momota shot him a grateful glance, interpreting his words as genuine as he dragged a reluctant Harukawa towards the body, maybe to discuss something he had found in his earlier inspection. He could feel Kiibo's questioning gaze, and to avoid having to discuss it, he decided that now was the perfect time to track down the others. 

"So many people to talk to, so little time." He lamented as he left the dining hall, glancing back at the doorway to make sure the robot was following - as if he wouldn't. Kiibo seemed tempted to say something, but hesitated in his delivery.

"Do you have any ideas as to who the culprit may be?" He finally said, catching up to Ouma despite his visible confusion when he started walking towards the gym. Admittedly, there wasn't much of a chance that there would be evidence down there, but he thought it wouldn't hurt to check for their classmates in the hallways. 

"It's too early to tell, isn't it?" Ouma replied, as if he didn't know why Kiibo chose to ask him that _now_. "We've still got a few more people to interrogate, so let's focus on that first, m'kay?"

He offered him a smile that showed it wasn't up for debate, and though Kiibo seemed to consider arguing anyway, he let it go upon rounding the corner and spotting- "Shinguuji-kun? What are you doing here?"

The anthropologist was standing in the hallway, facing away from them. He glanced over at the question and if he was surprised by their arrival, it didn't show. Ouma mentally patted himself on the back for making the detour here. "Ah, hello. I have taken it upon myself to keep an eye on Angie-san. She wandered off without a partner."

"So have either of you been doing any actual investigating? 'Cause you don't look too busy!" Ouma chimed cheerfully, folding his arms behind his back as he leaned forward to meet Shinguuji's unwavering, one-eyed gaze.

"Of course, I have looked at the body." Shinguuji hummed, fiddling with a medallion hanging off his jacket and looking entirely too calm for someone being genuine. "And I am keeping alert for anything suspicious I may stumble across, because I am more than aware of the present danger. But I'm certainly not as invested in the process as you two."

"Invested, huh?" He repeated, raising an eyebrow even as he maintained the shadow of that cheery smile. 

Shinguuji smiled back, a slow but genuine movement as his eye shone with thinly veiled amusement. "You've seeked me out because you find me to be suspicious. I can only assume you'll want to know my alibi, and while that is understandable, many of us seem to have not been quite as thorough. I haven't been approached since the beginning of this investigation."

Ouma wanted to point out that probably had something to do with hanging out in a hallway that virtually led to nothing important, but kept that retort to himself. Instead, Kiibo replied with an edge of surprise to his voice. "Really? I suppose, as long as some of us have the evidence, the trial has a chance of reaching a favourable outcome, but I think it'd be preferable that we don't rely too heavily on one another."

"Yeah! I mean, someone's still the culprit. If we relied on one person, and they turned out to be the culprit, we'd be screwed!" Ouma reminded, with a tone that was still far too chipper. That earned him a glare from Kiibo, but no verbal response, because they both knew his words were true. 

"And we're not necessarily here because we suspect you in particular." Kiibo reassured, as if he hadn't heard him. Ouma found it kind of pointless, seeing as Shinguuji didn't seem all too bothered with being a suspect. "You actually have fairly solid alibis, based on what others have said. However, I do need to ask what you were doing from 9:30pm to nighttime, after you left the library."

"A good question, but I'm afraid there isn't much to say." Shinguuji sighed, brushing his hair out of his face to neatly tuck it behind his ear. "I went to Classroom B, to be able to read in silence. I didn't run into anyone, nor do I think anyone saw me, so you'll have to take my word for it."

"I understand." Kiibo sounded disappointed despite his words, perhaps because it meant another person he couldn't cross off the suspect list. "Thank you, anyway." 

Ouma found the reasoning for leaving the library strange, but he didn't believe Shinguuji was lying, so he left his questions unsaid. Besides, the flash of yellow that appeared from around the corner seemed more important. A flash of yellow that seemed momentarily surprised to see them, before smiling with a nod to Shinguuji. 

"Hey hey! How are the two of you doing?" Angie called as she came to stand with the other three. Ouma noted that she seemed more subdued than normal, her cheeriness more obviously faked. While she wasn't as obvious as Chabashira in her affection, Angie had also been closer to Yumeno than the rest of them. 

"Eh, we're all good." Ouma said with a flippant hand gesture, before Kiibo could jump into his line of questioning. He squinted one eye at Angie, grinning. "What about you, Angie-chan? What were you doing over there?"

"I was making sure to pray hard, so Himiko's soul will rest in peace." She clasped her hands together in prayer, her fingers twitching. Her smile dimmed as she squeezed her hands tighter together to hide her tremors. "Atua welcomes those who die with open arms, but Himiko still wasn't supposed to join him so early. It's...a shame."

"Yeah, it is." Ouma exhaled slowly, before rolling back his shoulders and smiling as he shook his head, to encourage his hair to fall over his eyes. "But we've got more important things to talk about. Like where you were from 9pm to nighttime, yesterday evening."

Angie's eyebrows furrowed, and she cocked her head. "Where I was?"

"Yes, we're collecting testimonies so it will be easier to determine who the culprit may be." Kiibo clarified, eager to get back on task, even though he seemed to be caught off guard by Angie's shift in behaviour. 

"Ah, of course, of course. How smart!" The compliment sounded forced, but none of that pointed that out. She gave a hum of thought, fiddling with one of her pigtails. "I was in the warehouse. I was looking for art supplies, but I got distracted by how many interesting things are in there."

Ouma nodded in solidarity, because he had to admit, the warehouse was interesting to look through. Shinguuji was the one who replied, as if he were only mildly interested and not as if this were important information. "Can anyone verify that you were there?"

"Nope, unless you count Atua." She finally released her clasped hands, and Ouma realised how strange it was to see her stagnant, and not swinging her arms or rocking back and forth. "Is that a problem?" The words were nervous, and he couldn't blame her. 

"No, please don't worry about it. You aren't the only person to have been alone." Kiibo offered a smile that was trying to be gentle but came off as stiff, bowing his head to the two of them. "Thank you for answering our questions, though."

Shinguuji nodded back while Angie returned the smile, rubbing at a newly painted cluster of stars at her wrist. "I suppose, if we'll only see you at the dreaded class trial next, I should wish you luck with your investigation." 

"Aw, thank you Shinguuji-chan!" Ouma laughed, placing his hands over his heart in an act of affection. Kiibo reacted a bit more genuinely, returning the sentiment just before Ouma started to drag him back down the corridor. There wasn't going to be anything else there, at least not that Shinguuji or Angie wouldn't have pointed out. Maybe if they had time after their rounds, he'd run back to check, but as of right now, time was of the essence.

The sound of arguing down the hall attracted his attention, and suddenly not caring if Kiibo kept pace with him, he began to walk faster. It was one female voice and one male - Iruma and Amami, his brain supplied - talking about verification, or trust, or something or other. 

"Iruma-chan! I need to talk to you!" He shouted as he rounded the corner, skidding to an abrupt stop in front of the pair. They were standing at the doors of the first floor bathrooms which, okay, was a bit weird. Amami had his arms crossed, his expression dark and muscles tense in a way that exuded annoyance. 

Iruma had her hands on her hips, a scowl twisting her features. She had been glaring at Amami, but as soon as Ouma got her attention, that glare quickly snapped over to him. "If you're here to fuck me over, you're gonna have to wait in line." 

Maybe Amami was onto something when he speculated her vulgar language was a coping mechanism.

  
He sighed heavily, placing a hand on his waist as he gave the two of them an appraising look. "Actually, I have better things to be doing like, y'know, trying to keep our miserable selves _alive_. What are you two doing?"

To be quite honest, he was a bit surprised to find these two fighting. Iruma was an awful conversationalist to many people, but Amami had never seemed particularly bothered. 

Speaking of Amami, he let out a sigh of his own, slowly relaxing his muscles in an attempt to calm down. He ran a hand through his hair, his stern expression even scarier when compared to his usually friendly disposition. "Iruma found something related to the murder, but she's refusing to show me where it is."

"Bullshit! You know where it is!" Iruma spat, averting her gaze with gritted teeth. Kiibo arrived at his side and shot him a questioning look, but Ouma simply shrugged back. "Just because you're a perv and want to grab any opportunity to sneak a peek at the girls' bathroom-"

"We're in a killing game!" Amami snapped, his attempts to calm himself going out the window as he dug his nails into his palms. "Right now, finding evidence is our priority. If you find something, you have to show someone else, or people are going to assume you made it up."

"Not only that, but it makes you appear more suspicious." Kiibo murmured, attracting the attention of the three. "Iruma-san, I don't quite understand your aversion to showing Amami-kun the evidence you found. While it's certainly...unorthodox, you don't seem like the type to care, and this situation is unique."

"What _I_ don't understand is why Amami-chan is being polite enough to let her stop him." Ouma huffed unprompted, and swiftly darted behind Iruma to push the door to the girls' bathroom open. He snuck a glance over his shoulder, with a grin that dared someone to oppose him. "I mean, what are you gonna do to stop me? Kill me?"

"Ouma-kun!" He could hear Kiibo's reprimanding whisper, feel the disapproving stare from Amami in the back of his head, but he elected to ignore it in favour of scanning the room. He stepped further into the bathroom, vaguely aware of the others filing in after him and the eerily silent state Iruma was in, when his eyes locked onto the irregularity in the scene. He hurried over to the sinks, grabbing onto the edge of the counter to steady himself, dread and hope warring uncomfortably in his stomach. 

It wasn't much, but it was _some_ evidence. Erratically lining the inside of the sink furthest from the door were traces of smeared blood, small yet stark against the clinical white ceramic. 

"Wow, that's fun!" Ouma breathed with a hint of a laugh, partly because he didn't know how else to react. He leaned back to allow Kiibo and Amami to crowd around him and inspect what had been found themselves. 

"Weird. Most of the stains are higher up." Amami muttered, reaching out as if to touch the bloodstains before hesitating and drawing his hand back. "Almost like someone missed them when cleaning the basin, or something."

"Yeah, no shit. That's probably what happened." Iruma scoffed, but she refused to look at the sink and leaned against the wall, by the entrance. Ouma entertained the idea that, perhaps, the inventor had refused to show Amami what she had found because she was in denial.

Kiibo stared at the bloodstains for a moment, hesitation on his face before he stepped back entirely. "Then...does this mean the culprit is a girl?" 

"Not necessarily." Amami followed his lead and stepped back too, so they were standing in a semicircle around the sink. It was almost funny, how none of them wanted to risk tampering with it. "You'd get questions if you were a boy and were spotted coming in here, but technically, anyone could. I mean, we're in here right now, aren't we?"

"Right. All we know is something happened here, then?" Kiibo conceded, tugging his sleeves further down. Amami nodded, pushing his hands into his pockets as he leaned against one of the cubicles. 

"It's definitely helpful, but I don't think it's enough to trim down the suspect list, is what I'm saying."

"Yeah, well, that's all good and dandy but I did come here for a reason." Ouma moved towards Iruma at the entrance, smiling in a way that was just short of uncomfortable. She folded her arms over her chest, in that way she usually did when nervous, but met his gaze warily. "Iruma-chan, mind telling me what you were doing yesterday from 9 to 10pm, and-"

"Don't bother giving me specifics." Iruma glowered at him, but that didn't last long before she looked away entirely. "I was in my lab from 8pm to the body discovery. Didn't I tell you assholes that I wanted to try my lab out?"

Kiibo eyed her carefully, furrowing his eyebrows. "So you were there all night? You have slept, right?" 

"Of course I have!" She said it defensively, before wilting slightly, embarrassed as she curled a loose lock of her hair around her finger. "I just got really into my work and I kinda passed out, you know?"

"Can anyone prove you were there, though? Claiming you were there for such a long period of time could come off as suspicious." It couldn't, not when it came to something as time-consuming as inventing, but Ouma couldn't help teasing her a little bit. 

"Well, n-no but-" She floundered for a moment, before suddenly springing back as her eyes lit up, snapping her fingers. "Wait, I remember! About 9:35 or so last night, Dasaihara stopped by my lab to ask me about something. That's proof, isn't it?"

He groaned in faux disappointment, rolling his eyes. "I _guess_ so. It's weak, but as long as Saihara-chan corroborates it, it works." It was hypocritical, sure, but Iruma didn't know that. 

"So should I prepare myself for interrogation too?" Amami joked from his place further in the bathroom, his darkened eyes an odd juxtaposition against his light smile. 

"Nah, you've actually already got a pretty solid alibi. Congratulations!" Ouma stretched his arms above his head, stifling a yawn behind a grin. "We've gotta track down Hoshi-chan and Saihara-chan, though. We haven't talked to them yet, and knowing our luck, we probably don't have much time left."

Amami let out a hum, pushing himself off the wall of the cubicle. "Those two were at the entrance hall, last time I checked." 

"Got it. C'mon, Kiiboy!" Ouma flashed a grin at Kiibo's deadpan expression, pushing the door open with his shoulder and taking the opportunity to stick his tongue out at Iruma. He just caught her middle finger as he turned, and bit down a snort. 

As Amami had said, Hoshi stood in the entrance hall, eyes following the silhouette of Saihara as he wandered down the corridor that led to the basement. He glanced over at the sound of them approaching, raising an eyebrow. "What are you two up to?"

"Collecting testimonies." Ouma folded his arms behind his head, tilting his head. "Where were you yesterday, before nighttime?"

"In my dorm." Hoshi sighed, turning to watch Saihara again. "I know I don't really have an alibi, so you'll probably take what I say with a grain of salt."

Kiibo's expression twisted with concern. "Maybe, but it's like Amami-kun said. We have to have faith in each other, to be able to single out the lies the culprit will try to tell."

"Sure." Hoshi muttered, looking down at the fake cigarette he had been fiddling with before pocketing it. "You're gonna want to ask Saihara about his testimony too, right?"

"Of course." Kiibo glanced at the detective himself, who came to a stop in the middle of the hallway and seemed to be muttering to himself. "Why, is he busy? I wouldn't want to disturb him."

Hoshi chuckled, shaking his head. "No, go ahead. I think he's just trying to think things through by himself, because he doesn't want to share anything without knowing he might be on the right track. He's been refusing to tell me anything."

"I don't know if that's responsible or incredibly stupid." Ouma sighed, before squinting at where it looked like Saihara was pacing. "Well! Maybe we'll be able to get something from him." And with that, he took off towards him, keeping his footsteps light.

Saihara visibly jumped when he turned to see Ouma standing there, and the reaction made him grin. "Hello Saihara-chan! I'm here to ask about your testimony, you know how it is, being a detective and all."

"Oh, yeah, of course." He muttered with a light laugh, even as he lowered his head to hide his eyes. "What's the time frame for the testimony?" 

"9 to 10pm!"

"Did you have to scare him like that?" Kiibo grumbled as he arrived shortly afterwards, a rhetorical question to fill the silence as Saihara thought. Ouma shrugged with a vague half grin.

"I'm afraid I don't really have a solid alibi, because I was walking around the school grounds for the full hour." Saihara admitted quietly, with a sheepish smile that seemed slightly forced. "Some of the others saw me in passing, but I only really stopped to talk to Iruma-san at 9:35, 9:40? She was in her lab, and I was curious about what she was working on."

"Don't worry about it. At the very least, that lines up with Iruma-san's testimony." Ouma assumed Kiibo was trying to comfort the other, but he sounded more like he was simply observing aloud. The robot looked up, struggling to try and make eye contact with Saihara for a moment before giving up entirely. "Have you found anything that might be useful?

Saihara rubbed the back of his neck, turning his head to look to the side. "Not really. Of course, I have some, uh, theories, but nothing concrete." He dropped his hand, turning back to peek at Ouma from underneath the brim of his hat. The brief clash of purple and hazel surprised him, but it was gone as soon as he blinked. "What about you, Ouma-kun? What were you doing, yesterday evening? I've heard from the others that Kiibo-kun was in the library with them, so I'm assuming you were alone, but…"

"Oh, how the tables have turned. Now you're interrogating me! I should have expected that, huh?" Ouma gasped dramatically, before his hyperness swiftly drained out of his face, leaving it neutral. "I was alone too, in my dorm room. I don't really have an alibi either, but I was there since 7pm or so."

Saihara didn't react outside a curt nod. "And what about this morning? If I remember correctly, neither of you were at the dorms during the body discovery announcement, right?"

"We were in the A/V Room together. Ouma-kun wasn't able to sleep, so I suggested spending the night there." Kiibo helpfully replied before he was able to. Ouma shot a glare at him, not particularly happy at having his insomnia mentioned. "I suppose I could say that we act as witness to each other's morning testimony."

Whether Saihara had any other questions to ask or not, he wad promptly shut up by the dreaded sound of announcement chime. The three walked back to the entrance hall, where Hoshi was looking up to the monitor with a grimace. On the screen was Monokuma, lounging on a chair with a glass of champagne held in the air.

_"Here it is, the moment you've all been waiting for. The class trial! Please gather in front of the Shrine of Judgement, through that red door with all those plants. Once you're all there, you'll be escorted to the trial grounds. I look forward to seeing you!"_

The screen turned to black with a crackle of static, and Ouma released the breath he was holding. He glanced at the others, noting that each expressed various levels of apprehension. He untied his scarf just enough for him to retie it higher, his voice carefully flat when he spoke next.

"Well, you heard the bear. We better get going!"

His mind was buzzing with everything he knew. 

He wasn't ready. 

* * *

**Truth Bullets**

**Monokuma File 1**

The victim is Yumeno Himiko, Ultimate Magician. The victim's body was discovered in the dining hall. The cause of death was a stab wound to the stomach, caused by a sharp object. No other external wounds were detected.

**Signs of a Struggle**

The chairs surrounding the table, while upright, are lopsided or further away from the table than normal. They appear to have been kicked out, or replaced in a hurry.

**Blood on Seat**

There are signs of blood on Yumeno's chair, most likely from the stab wound. There are no other traces of blood within the room.

**Dining Room Rules**

The dining room is off-limits at nighttime, from 10pm to 8am, and anyone who enters during that time will be killed by the Exisals. 

**Spilled Tea**

A cup of black tea, tipped over and spilled over the table. The tea itself is cold, and has an odd chemical scent to it. 

**Outer Entrance**

The door to the outside seating area isn't properly closed. After the body discovery announcement, everyone entered through the hallway entrance.

**Missing Knife**

According to Tojo, there is one less knife in the kitchen. As she's the only one to continously use the kitchen, and the knives are kept in a drawer instead of a knife block, this claim can't be confimed.

**Bloodied Sink**

There are traces of blood smears in one of the sinks in the 1st floor girls' bathroom.

**Chabashira's Account**

Yumeno and Chabashira drank tea together at 8:30pm yesterday. Chabashira left after she had escorted Yumeno, who had not finished her tea, to the bathroom at 9pm. From 9:05pm to nighttime, she was exercising in the courtyard. She is the last person to see Yumeno alive.

**Morning Alibis**

Everyone is accounted for from 8am onwards. Akamatsu and Momota waited in the dorms for Harukawa from 8am onwards, and testify that they saw all their classmates exit their rooms after the body discovery announcement. Kiibo and Ouma were together. The only exceptions to this are Tojo, who has no alibi prior to running into Kiibo and Ouma, and Iruma, who claims to have spent the night in her lab. 

**Evening Alibis**

Gonta and Chabashira were both in the courtyard and are witnesses to each other's accounts. Momota and Akamatsu were in the underground tunnel. Tojo, Kiibo, Shinguuji and Amami were in the library, but Shinguuji left at around 9:30pm and does not have a further alibi. Iruma was in her Ultimate Lab, and Saihara testifies her account to some degree, as he talked to her there at around 9:35pm. Saihara himself was walking around the academy throughout the hour. The remaining students don't have any alibis. Ouma, Hoshi and Harukawa were in their rooms. Shirogane was in the A/V Room. Angie was in the warehouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen to Despair Searching while reading this chapter for the full Investigation Experience™
> 
> This was an interesting one to write! I will admit that I was purposefully a bit vague about certain things throughout. Ouma is very smart, and I do want to maintain the mystery aspect of things, so I've tried to avoid explicitly stating things, even though Ouma himself has already figured some things out.
> 
> Because I'm writing from Ouma's POV, and also for ease on my part, I'm planning to write the trial as if you were actually in a trial as opposed to trying to shoehorn in the minigames. So functionally, the truth bullets list is irrelevant to the story. It's more so meant to be an easy point of reference for you guys, as well as going into more specific detail than I did in the chapter (because Ouma is kind of busy worrying about the limited time for investigation). If you have any theories, I'd love to hear them!! 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I'll see you next chapter!


	6. 1.5 : Mors Certa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first class trial begins, and absolutely no one is happy about it.

With all the stress involved with the murder of a classmate, the last thing Ouma needed was to enter the Shrine of Judgement to see a buff statue of Monokuma on the layered pedestal in front of the waterfall fountain, but it happened anyway. 

Though the four of them all arrived together and undoubtedly saw said statue, they seemed to reach an unspoken agreement to not talk about it. With the silence between them, he worried that they had reached another unspoken agreement about not speaking at all, but luckily, Hoshi proved him wrong by sighing. "I'm not looking forward to this." 

"I don't think anyone's looking forward to this." Saihara retaliated in a whisper, eyes lingering on the flowers lining the edge of the area. Their bright colours felt offensive in the dark situation they were in, but he could say the same about most of the scenery in this school

"Hey, on the bright side, at least we're finally going to get this over with." Ouma said in a suffocatingly positive tone, overplayed enough that it was obvious he wasn't fully serious. 

"Hell yeah we are!" A new voice cut in, and Ouma tilted his head over his shoulder to see Iruma and Amami entering, the former speaking. The inventor let out a loud exhale, shaking her head. "The rest of you slugs are coming too, they're all just slow. Do they have no sense of urgency or what?"

"To be fair, they had further to walk than we did, Iruma." Amami scolded lightly, but the lack of a smile made it worse. Ouma understood completely why someone wouldn't want to smile in the current situation, especially not a casual one, but Amami always felt weird when he switched out of his friendly air. He turned his attention to them as he walked inwards. "How is everyone feeling?"

"From what I'm aware, I believe we're all feeling somewhat apprehensive." Kiibo replied with a small smile, looking extremely tired now that they had a moment of pause between the investigation and the trial. Amami nodded empathetically, cracking a polite smile that was a little too plastic, but didn't say anything further.

After that, it didn't take too long for everyone to gather. Eventually, all fifteen of them were scattered around the fountain with its' weird ass statue. After a few boring moments of absolutely nothing happening, Angie began to rock back and forth restlessly. "Sooo...are we supposed to have the trial here?"

"No, I don't think so." Amami's eyes skimmed the area, with something analytical that was both foreign to him, and yet completely expected. "Monokuma said we'd be 'escorted', right? That implies we'll be taken somewhere from here."

Momota groaned, visibly skeptical. "How do we know this isn't a trap? This is Monokuma we're talking about." 

The mention of a possible threat set off Gonta's protective nature, and he instantly moved to be near the front of the group, which was both sweet and entirely pointless. "Oh no! If it's a trap, then everybody should get behind Gonta. He'll shield you all with his body!"

"Yeah, but we're talking about Monokuma here. As much as I hate it, he's in charge. If he really wanted to kill us, he'd do it already." Harukawa deadpanned, and of course, she had a point. It was a shame that nobody had a chance to properly take in what she said before a low rumble filled the air. Slowly, the statue began to move with the sound of crunching rock, breaking out of its pose. Gonta, already riled up by Momota's doubt, situated himself in front of him, but he had no reason to worry as the statue simply sunk into the depths of the water with the pedestal. In tandem, the waterfall was parted by a marble walkway that stretched out to meet them at the edge of the fountain, revealing an elevator that was previously hidden behind the water. 

The doors opened. 

Nobody moved.

In hindsight, he shouldn't have been surprised after all the things he had seen in this school already, but alas.

"I'm assuming he wants us to board this elevator, then?" Shinguuji said, recovering quickly from whatever shock he might have felt from the display they just witnessed and looking much too calm with all that was happening.

Chabashira frowned. "I really don't want to go on that thing. It looks creepy."

Shirogane nodded, fidgeting with her buttons. "I don't want to, either."

"Literally what else are we going to do?" Ouma bore a sardonic grin, momentarily shifting his scarf to reveal it. "Run away, or refuse to go, and risk getting squished by an Exisal? I don't think so! Might as well suck it up and get on the elevator."

Akamatsu stepped in before he was able to receive any glares for his blunt words, speaking lightly with a half smile. "Listen guys, I know it's scary. Hell, this is terrifying! But we'll be able to get through this, I know it." Her smile grew, gentle. "Because if we work together, I know we'll make an amazing team. So let's do this!" Positivity of this nature was never something that worked well with Ouma's ever doubtful mind, and it seemed that some of his classmates thought similarly.

_(He was shocked to have a brief bonding moment with Harukawa when they both rolled their eyes in response, and he was certain it would never happen again.)_

However, it did cheer up the rest of his classmates, now with brightened faces and exclamations of determination. It especially seemed effective for those who were more visibly anxious, so he supposed he couldn't complain too much. He readjusted his scarf from when he had moved it down, and trailed after Tojo and Harukawa, into the elevator.

Once they were all inside, the doors of the elevator slid shut behind them with a groan, cutting them off from the natural light. The elevator creaked before beginning its descent into the darkness, the floor rumbling beneath them in a way that felt very unsafe. Or maybe the feeling of a lack of safety was because of the circumstance. 

"So this really is an elevator." Iruma leaned back, eyeing the perimeter with vague interest. "I wonder how the mechanics of this thing work, with all the water parting and shit." Clearly, she realised the implications of her words, because she hurriedly added onto her musings with a cocky lilt to her words. "Not that I wouldn't be able to figure it out myself, of course!"

Momota rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the floor, as if that would make the elevator go any further. "We're going pretty far down, are we? Elevator rides don't usually take this long."

Whether he was actually nervous or not, he certainly sounded it, so obviously Ouma couldn't resist ignoring the situation to snicker. "What, are you scared, Momota-chan?"

"Of course not!" He spluttered before huffing in reply, folding his arms. "I'm better suited for the universe, that's all. I'm supposed to be rocketing up to space, not into the ground."

The conversation ended there, which was a bit unsatisfactory, but wholly unsurprising considering _where_ they were going. He tucked a thumb into one of his pockets as they descended further, his attention eventually drifting to Kiibo, who stood closest to his right.

Ouma sidestepped closer, acting casual as he teased him. "You got all that evidence saved in your fancy hard drive?" It wasn't even a particularly harsh jab, but Kiibo glanced at him with a mixture of hurt and disappointment nonetheless. He continued in a whisper, making sure he wouldn't be heard by anyone else above the horrendous clanking of the elevator. "Sorry. I might just be an eensy, _weensy_ bit nervous."

"Nervousness doesn't excuse your use of unnecessary stereotypes." Kiibo muttered back sternly, before softening as he tugged at the hem of his gakuran. "But I understand why you feel that way. This situation is dangerous and uncertain. In full honesty, I'd be concerned for your survival instincts if you weren't anxious at all." He lifted his head, locking eyes with Ouma as he offered him a hopeful smile. "That said, I'm sure we'll be fine. Logically, we have a high chance of correctly determining who is the culprit if we are all upfront about what we know, and I'm sure everyone will be, because they want to live too!"

It wasn't exactly the same as Akamatsu's pep talks, which were mostly blind positivity paired with friendship, but it was a pep talk that soothed Ouma to a certain extent. He smiled back, something soft and small enough to be better described as a quirk of his lips. They lapsed back into relative silence, only the mechanical sounds of the elevator dropping them further and further echoing around the walls.

It was as if time had stopped existing, because Ouma couldn't be sure how long they spent standing in that mutual silence. All he knew was that, eventually, the elevator screeched to a loud stop, and the doors opened with a soft hiss.

* * *

He had to admit, the trial grounds looked pretty impressive.

It was modelled after a courtroom, unsurprisingly. The elevated judge's seat (with a matching platform for the cubs) and circle of podiums suggested that much, at least. However, the room was unique in every other sense - it was brighter than a courtroom, and remarkably so when they were supposedly underground. The light shone in through the stained glass windows lining the room, casting it in bright pinks, blues and whites. The ceiling was high, much taller than the room was wide, and ended in a glass dome that looked too similar to the End Wall (or whatever it was called) for his liking. A fence made of thin purple bars fringed the room, but seemingly had no purpose, as there was nothing on the other side except the wall and the pillars along them. 

The podiums were named, and Monokuma had told them to stand at the one with their name as he sat in his judge's chair, looking entirely too high and mighty for a stuffed bear. He didn't find it surprising when a few of his bullheaded classmates tried to argue, but didn't add to the chaos. He'd admit that he was tempted, something proud and hateful churning in his gut and screaming for acknowledgement, but that quickly died once he caught Kiibo's disapproving gaze. He resigned himself to cooly settling himself on his podium, and it didn't take long for the rest of the group to reluctantly follow the given instructions.

To his left stood Chabashira, picking at her twin braids and refusing to look at anyone. There was a tiredness surrounding her that hadn't been present during the investigation, and he assumed it was the weight of facing the trial itself that was causing it. He certainly felt a bit worn himself, not that he'd ever admit it. To his right, stood a podium that was labelled for someone who would never stand behind it. Instead, a portrait of Yumeno stood tall on a stand, her face crudely painted over with two red magic wands in the shape of an X. It felt worse than dealing with an empty podium, lifeless printed eyes mocking the tragedy they all had to face. He almost felt sorry for Hoshi, whose podium was directly opposite it.

"Alright! Let's begin with a basic explanation of the class trial." Monokuma trilled once everyone was in place, and his grin seemed to be wider somehow. "During this trial, you'll all present your arguments for who the culprit is and why it can't be you. Then, you'll vote for 'whodunnit'. If the majority vote correctly, then only the blackened will be punished. Buuut vote for the wrong person, and everyone _besides_ the blackened will be punished, and that person will graduate from this academy."

His voice dipped in volume, hissed and conspiratorial. "And another thing, refusing to vote will result in _your_ death, so unless you feel suicidal, you better vote for someone." 

Then, as if nothing happened, he returned to his disturbingly cheerful tone. "Now, let's get this heart-pumping trial started! Our very first class trial is now in session!" He pulled a gavel out of nowhere and hit it against the armrest of his chair. The resounding bang already felt like a death sentence.

Ouma sucked in a breath through his teeth, waiting for someone to start talking so he wouldn't break the ice with an unnecessary and likely incriminating lie. It didn't take long, because luckily, some of the others were a lot more restless than him.

"So this really is happening." Momota murmured, rubbing his goatee with the back of his hand. Even with his seemingly endless supply of energy, he seemed nervous now they were facing the actual trial. 

"Unfortunately." Hoshi sighed, pulling his beanie down. "But where do you guys think we should start? With something like this, there isn't exactly an obvious starting topic."

There was a brief, and mostly awkward, lapse of silence from their collective uncertainty, before Harukawa scoffed. "Why don't we ask Saihara? Seeing as he's a detective, he should know how something like this works, right?"

Saihara tensed, like he always did when addressed, clearing his throat with visible embarrassment. "Sorry, I'm uh- I don't have any experience with trials."

"Detective or not, this is a...unique circumstance." Shinguuji mused, hands resting lightly against the handrail of the podium. "In a typical courtroom, there is one suspect arguing for their innocence in front of an unbiased jury. Here, we are both the suspects and the jury."

"Yeah, that's great and all, but we still don't know where to fucking start." Iruma huffed, a hand on her hip. "I can't show off my genius if you don't prompt me!"

"How about we start with figuring out when the murder occured?" Amami suggested, although the way he said it made it sound more like an order. "It wasn't mentioned in the Monokuma File, and it'll help with narrowing down the suspect list."

"When? But we found Himiko in the morning, so it had to be around that time, right?" Angie asked with a pout, but that didn't mask the small tremor in her voice at Yumeno's name.

Akamatsu furrowed her eyebrows, shaking her head. "No, that doesn't make sense. Everyone has an alibi around that time, so it's not possible for someone to have killed her then."

"Not everybody." Ouma said lazily, arms folded behind his head. It was a detour, he knew, but he thought it was best to establish everything they knew anyway, and he wasn't nice enough to state it all outright. "Iruma-chan doesn't have an alibi, and she was the last to arrive after the body discovery."

Iruma instantly reacted and straightened up, though her glare was weak. "Shut up, asshole! I'm not the only one without an alibi. Tojo doesn't have one, either."

"Tojo-san has...some alibi." Gonta spoke hesitantly, as if unsure if what he was saying was correct. Bless him, he probably didn't - none of them really did. "She ran into Ouma-kun and Kiibo-kun in the entrance hall."

"All I'm hearing is that Iruma is the most likely suspect." Harukawa muttered, folding her arms across her chest and looking directly at the girl in question.

The accused, understandably, didn't appreciate that. "Then you should get your ears checked for bullshit!"

"Please, hold on a minute, everyone!" Kiibo called, before letting out a sigh and glaring at Ouma out of the corner of his eye. He doesn't react to it, but he thinks that the robot's annoyance is justified. "We need to discuss whether it's possible for the murder to have even been committed in the morning before we try and single out a culprit. Like Amami-kun said, the time of death is still unclear."

"But we found the body in the morning, like Angie-san said." Shirogane pointed out, a faint frown on her face. "We would've known if she died earlier, wouldn't we?" 

"Not necessarily." Hoshi grunted, sticking his hands in his pockets and hunching his shoulders. While he may not be as shaken as some, he was still _uncomfortable_ with this situation. "Monokuma's rules said a body discovery announcement would only go off once three people find the victim, so in theory, the body could've been there for a while."

"It would also make more sense." Tojo folded her hands neatly in front of herself, the only thing tarnishing her outward composure being a crease between her brows "We discovered the body within fifteen minutes of the morning announcement. It would have been impossible for Iruma-san, myself, or anyone else, to have killed Yumeno-san and left within that space of time, especially without leaving more evidence behind."

"If that is so, how would the body be in the dining hall?" Shinguuji leaned forward slightly, putting more weight on his hands. "The school rules state that any entrance during night time would result in termination, does it not?" 

Amami raised an eyebrow, finger resting under his chin. "That's under the assumption that the rules apply to corpses." He seemed to consider for a moment, before turning to glance over his shoulder at the judge's seat. "Do they, Monokuma?"

The peanut gallery burst with giggles, sounding too amused for Ouma's liking, and Yellow went as far as to snort: "What kind of stupid question is that? Don't you have any brain in there?" 

Monokuma cackled, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye. "Of course not! The rules are for you students. _Corpses_ don't really qualify as students, because they're _dead_ and therefore can no longer participate in the killing school semester."

"So basically Yumeno could have been killed and left in the dining hall overnight." Momota summarised with a sigh, running a hand over his hair. "And with what Tojo said, it really wouldn't make sense for the murder to happen in the morning."

"Exactly! Which means you can't blame me anymore, asshats!" Iruma laughed with a cocky grin, instantly back to full energy.

Shirogane pursed her lips into a thin smile. "Aren't you still one of the people without an alibi?" 

She spluttered, turning her head away even as a flush of embarrassment rose high on her cheeks. "M-Mind your own business, four-eyes! You don't have one either!"

"That would also explain why the blood at the scene was dried." Saihara said quietly, more to himself than to the class. He didn't sound surprised or understanding - if anything, he said it like it was a pre-established fact. Like he already knew that. Though, Ouma supposed he wasn't much different. "If the murder had occured in the morning, it would still be wet by the time we found the victim."

"Well, yeah, but there's also a much simpler reason why it couldn't have happened this morning." Ouma piped up, rocking back on his heels. He paused, leaning forward to catch Chabashira's gaze, flashing a sly grin. "Right, Chabashira-chan?"

She had been unnaturally quiet so far, at least for her standards, but he assumed that was out of grief. She blinked, before sending him a sharp glare and curling her hands into fists. Still, she hesitated before blurting out quickly. "I think I was the last person to see her alive."

"You do? Really? How do you know?" Angie's words were light, but her eyes were dark with suspicion.

"I didn't say I know, I said I _think_." Chabashira corrected, audibly defensive but understandably so. Ouma thought he might be that sensitive too, if he was accused of killing someone he was as fond of as she was to Yumeno. She relaxed slowly, looking down. "I last saw her at 9pm, after I walked her to the girls' bathroom but we were having tea before that. She said she was going to go back to the dining hall and finish her tea but…"

Chabashira awkwardly trailed off, but Ouma was happy to pick up the slack. "Sooo basically, the murder had to have occurred after 9pm, because that was the last time Yumeno-chan was seen alive. With the tea in the dining hall, we can safely assume that Chabashira-chan isn't lying about it."

"And because of the rules, it couldn't have been committed past 10pm, otherwise the body wouldn't be in the dining hall." Hoshi finished with a nod of comprehension, countered by his grimace.

"Are we sure about that?" Momota said with a raised eyebrow. "I mean, couldn't the culprit have killed Yumeno during night time and moved her body to the dining hall in the morning?"

Akamatsu hummed, before shaking her head. "No, I don't think so. There wasn't any evidence of the body being moved, and with the amount of blood," She looked a little queasy, but didn't pause in her explanation. "that was caused by that wound in mind, it definitely would have left some traces behind if it had."

"Besides, what would have been the point?" Harukawa sighed, tugging at the edge of her corset belt. "Unless the location would have incriminated them, the culprit would have been wasting time by moving the body."

"So it happened between 9pm and 10pm?" Gonta said tentatively, looking around in an obvious search for confirmation. He got it from Amami, who nodded as he crossed his arms. He looked almost tired, underneath his brooding seriousness, and Ouma thought that was fairly justified, considering the lack of progress they had made. 

"That sounds about right." His gaze scanned the circle of podiums, observing them all silently as he spoke. "Now we have a timeframe, at least. We could talk about the evidence we found next, to try and figure out how this happened."

"How?" Angie parroted in surprise as she leaned forward, bracing herself on the handrail. "I thought our priority was unmasking whoever this culprit is. Atua isn't able to tell me directly who it is, so we have to find out ourselves." Ouma found it interesting, how determined she seemed to further the trial faster. He had expected that sort of behaviour from Chabashira, but she had been oddly withdrawn when not prompted. Survivor's guilt, maybe. Being the presumed last person to see someone before their murder would do that to someone.

"Because by finding out what happened, it might be easier to narrow down the list of suspects, correct?" Kiibo answered, calm and confident despite the contemplative expression. "By understanding how the crime was committed, we may be able to gain further evidence from our alibis. Something may not seem suspicious until we understand what might have occured."

Momota must have been encouraged by this plan of action, if the hopeful grin that bloomed on his face meant anything. "Alright, so where do we start?"

"Oh! I have something we could talk about." Akamatsu's eyes lit up as she snapped her fingers, aligning with her light bulb moment. "The door of the dining hall's outer entrance was left ajar. Maybe the culprit used that to sneak up on Yumeno-san?"

"If Yumeno-san died in the same place she was discovered, then her back would have been to that door." Shinguuji mused, fingers splayed over his mouth in thought. "It would have certainly been an effective way to secure the upper hand in such a situation."

"Which means she must have went back to the dining hall after she went to the bathroom, like she said she would." Chabashira breathed as she mutely nodded along - out of relief or otherwise, he couldn't tell.

Ouma hummed thoughtfully, before smiling. It made sense, especially from a culprit's perspective, but something didn't feel right. "Great theory, but what about the murder weapon? If the culprit snuck up on her, they must have already had it, right?"

"Perhaps they snuck into the kitchen to get a knife once Yumeno-san and Chabashira-san left for the bathroom." Tojo proposed, lacing her fingers together in front of herself as she pursed her lips. "They could have waited on the other side of the door afterwards, and surprised Yumeno-san when she returned to her tea." 

"Eureka!" Iruma burst out, successfully grabbing everyone's attention as she pumped her fist in the air. "I know who killed tiny tits!"

"Hey, don't refer to her like that! You need to respect the- the dead!" Chabashira snapped with a glare, momentarily recovering from her passive state to shift into an offensive stance.

"Do you really know who killed Yumeno-san?" Gonta said optimistically, smiling with something hopeful in his eyes. Ouma almost felt bad for him, seeing as he was pretty sure that the inventor wasn't gonna be correct. Still, he was curious about what she was thinking, so he kept quiet. There was an off chance that she was actually a genius, no matter how slim that chance was.

She scoffed as she tilted her chin up with unbelievable amounts of confidence for something that was, most likely, an educated guess. "Of course! It's so obvious, but I guess a genius like me shouldn't expect you idiots to keep up with my golden brain-"

"Hurry up and make your point." Harukawa huffed, folding her arms over her chest and radiating irritation from across the courtroom. He bit down on a snicker, because now was really not the time to find amusement in the apparently universal annoyance towards Iruma's bullshit.

"H-Have some damn patience, will you?" She sniffed, like one would if they were feeling underappreciated, before puffing her chest out. "Like I said, it's obvious. It's gotta be dicktective over here." 

She jabbed her thumb to her left, at Saihara's podium directly next to hers, and the room hushed. The boy himself immediately stiffened, curling into himself protectively, and Ouma couldn't exactly blame him for that reaction. For all they knew, he was innocent. 

_(Then again, the same could be said for all of them. That was the whole problem, wasn't it?)_

"Saihara-kun?" Kiibo asked like he was looking for confirmation, but it was more so something to break the fragile silence. He wasn't sure if it was caused by disbelief or simply acted as time for everyone to process the accusation but frankly, he didn't care, because the discussion swiftly picked back up.

"W-Wait a minute, aren't you being a bit hasty? I thought we were talking about how the crime was committed first!" Akamatsu waved her hands in front of her, stealing nervous glances at Saihara. He assumed that was because of his reaction, though Ouma didn't think it was anything out of the ordinary. He never made eye contact, and he tensed whenever he was addressed anyway, let alone when he was being accused. It seemed all pretty standard. 

Amami shook his head, looking at Saihara with something curious on his face. "No, we should hear what Iruma has to say. We can't be sure if she recognised something relevant or not until we discuss it." His gaze flickered over to the girl in question. "So? What makes you say Saihara is the culprit?"

"Can't you join the dots yourself, guacamole?" Iruma snarked, as if she hadn't been sulking less than five minutes prior, hands settling on her hips as she leaned her upper body forward. "He practically admitted to it in his alibi, that's why." 

"Come on, just tell us!" Angie's words came out as a whine, but there was something dark in her irises that made them intimidating. He wasn't surprised that Iruma cracked, a squeak slipping past her defenses.

She looked away, hugging herself with a slight pout. "His account's fucking weird, is all. He said that he kept moving across the school, right? That seems like a pretty convenient way of killing Yumeno and then being able to give an alibi, without even having to lie!"

The lights on Saihara's podium suddenly flooded with red, and it moved towards the middle of the circle, marking him as the center of attention.

Ouma's breath hitched, and he buried his nose into the fabric of his scarf. Despite his insults, he always knew that Iruma was smart, but he hadn't expected her to point out something like this - something he hadn't stopped to consider. His eyes flickered over to Saihara, who wasn't arguing back, instead worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He knew that he had an affinity for picking up lies from years of lying himself, but half truths and lies of omission were a lot more finicky because people tended to lose their lying tics with them. With something like that, Ouma could have easily missed it. 

"That certainly sounds...plausible." Kiibo said hesitantly, as if nervous to break the delicate silence with something so condemning for Saihara. "With a flexible alibi, nobody would be able to definitively state where he was at any given time."

"No, Saihara-kun wouldn't do that!" Gonta cried out, earnest as he curled his hands into fists. Then, in a softer voice: "...Would he?"

Hoshi sighed, looking at the entomologist with sympathy. He had shown that he had accepted things fairly quickly, but that didn't mean he didn't understand the urge to blindly believe in others. Ouma understood it too, envied it sometimes. "It's not a matter of whether he would or wouldn't. Everyone has a capability to kill, especially in a survival situation like this."

"I see." Shinguuji murmured, absentmindedly stroking his chin as he stared at the handrail of his podium, as if deep in thought. "So Saihara-kun presumably eavesdropped on their conversation to find an opportunity to strike, and acted upon his plans once Chabashira-san and Yumeno-san left the room. Once he was finished, he aimlessly traipsed around the grounds to make his account true, but completely ambiguous."

"As a detective, Saihara-kun would have been more likely to be aware of this loophole." Tojo readjusted her gloves as she watched the accused out of the corner of her eye, similarly contemplative. Ouma didn't have to look to know Saihara was ignoring the stares of his peers.

"I knew a degenerate did it!" Chabashira shouted, snapping out of her quieter state now she had someone to pin the blame on. She dug her fingers into the railing as she lunged forward as much as the podium allowed, fire burning furiously in her eye as she addressed the detective. "Tell me why! Why did you kill her?!"

"C-Calm down, that isn't certain yet." Akamatsu spoke louder than before, desperate to get things under control. "We're jumping to conclusions. We haven't even given him a chance to defend himself! Right, Saihara-kun?" She clasped her hands together, glancing at the boy in question with a pleading look in her eyes, hoping that he'd prove her right. 

Unfortunately for her, he didn't respond. If Ouma was told that Saihara wasn't listening, he'd believe that wholeheartedly, with the utter lack of reaction. It was as if he was frozen in place. 

Momota rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, a faint grimace on his face. "C'mon, man. If you didn't do it, this should be easy, right?"

"Unless, of course, he is indeed the culprit." Shinguuji said darkly, before letting out a light chuckle as he gestured towards Saihara's podium. "His silence tells us more than enough, does it not?"

"Not really. It's not just up to Saihara to defend himself. Would you believe anything he says, now that he's a prime suspect?" Amami looked at the others expectantly, and received a tense silence. "Exactly. We need to discuss, as a group, if Saihara was actually capable of committing the murder based on our evidence and accounts. Anything come to mind?"

Nobody responded immediately, but that was fine, because something clicked in Ouma's head with the aid of the prompt. He didn't know if Saihara was off the hook quite yet, but he did know that there were some people who did. He smiled, even though he knew it was obscured by his scarf, and raised a hand. "Oh! I _do_ have something, actually." He waited for everyone, sans Saihara, to look at him before marching on. 

"Supposedly, Saihara-chan went in through the outer entrance, snagged a knife and went back outside to lie in wait and yada, yada, yada." He waved a dismissive hand, rolling his eyes before pointing outwards. "But here's the thing. The patio is in open view of the courtyard! I mean, sure, you could say that he hid by the wall as he waited to avoid being spotted, and I'd agree. But someone still should've seen him _approach_ the outer entrance, at least, especially because there were three possible witnesses!"

"Three possible witnesses? Who?" There was a spark of curiosity in Harukawa's eye, which he happily took as a sign that his bid for consideration was a success.

"Well, duh." Ouma raised an eyebrow, unhooking his sceptre from his belt and twirling it once, before using it to point to each student as he called them out. "Chabashira might have been too late to be a witness, but Gonta was in the courtyard around that time, right? He should have seen something. And even if the angle was a problem, then Akamatsu-chan and Momota-chan should've seen something when they walked directly past the patio, to get to the boiler!" He took the moment to dramatically clear his throat as he attempted to prop his sceptre against the podium before giving up and returning it to his hip. "Now, tell me, you three. Did you see Saihara-chan anywhere remotely near the patio?"

Akamatsu was visibly relieved, smiling as her shoulders relaxed. "No, we didn't see Saihara-kun at the patio. If we did, I would've asked him what he was doing." Yeah, that sounded about right. He couldn't imagine either of the pair passing by someone awkwardly lingering outside a door and _not_ trying to engage.

"Yeah! So around 9pm, he couldn't have been eavesdropping, because we would've seen him." Momota summarised as he placed his hands on his waist, grinning with satisfaction, presumably at being able to contribute to the trial. 

"Gonta didn't see Saihara-kun go to the patio, either." The final witness said with a growing smile of his own, turning to face the accused, who had yet to raise his head but had since rested his hands on the handrail. "So does this mean he isn't the culprit?"

"No, it just means he didn't use the outer entrance, bug brain. He could've easily gotten to the dining hall some other way." Iruma huffed, unsurprisingly defensive as soon as her contribution to the discussion was challenged. 

Shirogane looked up, a finger settled against her chin as she frowned. "Come to think of it, did you see anyone go near the outer entrance, Gonta-kun?"

He thought for a brief moment, before his expression pinched. "No, Gonta doesn't think he saw anyone go near there. Though, he had his back turned sometimes, to focus on finding bugs! Maybe he...missed the culprit?" It was an uncertain suggestion that gave Ouma the impression that Gonta knew he hadn't missed anything.

"What about you, Chabashira-san?" Kiibo asked with a small tilt of his head, distracting everyone from Gonta. "If we're speaking in broader terms, you were in the courtyard for a substantial amount of time, as well as presumably during the murder. Did you see anything?"

Chabashira chewed on the inside of her cheek, but averted her gaze as it lowered in intensity. "No, I didn't either. And I was facing the school building the entire time, so I couldn't have missed anyone." The admission was reluctant, and honest. 

Angie puffed her cheeks out, confusion and frustration warring across her face. "Huuh? But if nobody went to the patio, then why was the door open?"

"If that is the case, it may be possible that the outer entrance door being left ajar was simply a red herring." Tojo sighed, her expression grim. As if triggered by her words, Saihara's podium slowly slid back to its place in the circle, red replaced with cool blue once more.

"So we wasted all this time blaming Saihara-san for nothing?" Chabashira asked wearily, though if her balled fists meant anything, she was more annoyed than tired. Ouma would admit that it was extremely annoying - the thought that they wasted their time discussing a dead end - but he also understood the necessity, with the risks involved. 

"Hey, like I said, he could still be the culprit!" Iruma quickly grumbled, before anyone had the chance to complain further or make any other comment. "Just because nobody could've gone through the outer entrance doesn't mean he couldn't have just gone in from the main door."

"He could have snuck into the kitchen while Himiko and Tenko were gone, and hid there when Himiko came back." Angie offered in a low whisper, eyes wide. "Then he would surprise her by suddenly appearing from the kitchen, and attack her!"

Iruma puffed her chest out, a proud grin on her face despite not having been the one to think of the possible scenario. "Exactly! It could still be Dasaihara!"

He could concede that, yes, it was still a possibility. Harukawa, however, long past the point of being fed up, groaned under her breath as she rolled her eyes. "Alright then. Does anybody want to stand up for him again?"

Hoshi huffed a laugh, squinting one eye. "That depends on if there's any evidence that proves he isn't the culprit, right?" A murmur of agreement rippled through the circle, followed by a brief silence. Apparently, nobody had any immediate evidence, and Ouma took the moment to assess what he knew and the likelihood of Saihara being the culprit. Personally, he thought this was going to run into another dead end soon enough, but-

"Why don't you ask Gonta-kun and Chabashira-san?" Saihara's soft voice broke the short silence, and the fact that he had spoken at all made for several expressions of surprise on his peers' faces. He wasn't looking at them (or if he was, his eyes still weren't visible, hidden by his hat and bangs) but his head had been raised enough to show he was listening. 

Gonta, startled by being singled out once again, managed out a concerned: "W-What? What about us?"

"Both of them were in the courtyard." He explained, slowly but not unkindly, as if this wasn't in defense of murder accusations towards himself. "Chabashira-san herself said that she was facing the school building throughout the time frame. They would be able to testify who went in and out of it during the presumed time of the murder."

"But I did see you enter _and_ leave the school building." Chabashira snapped bitterly, with Gonta nodding his consent alongside her claim. Saihara didn't reply aside from an incline of his head, just as Ouma realised the importance of Chabashira and Gonta's accounts. 

His gaze bounced between the two for a moment, before he leaned his arms against the handrail of his podium. "Heeey, you two. I'm guessing you'd also be able to give me an estimate on how long Saihara-chan was in the school building for?"

"Eh? Are you an idiot?" Iruma snorted, acting as a distraction to Ouma's questioning that he did _not_ appreciate. "Why would that matter? If he was in there, he could've killed Yumeno, that's it."

"Maybe if you shut up and let them answer, you'd find out, you stupid bitch." He retorted flatly, not bothering to look at her as she gasped and instead looking expectantly at Chabashira. 

She looked between the two for a moment, but once she was satisfied that whatever was going on with them had passed, she made a sound of thought. "Thinking about it, it wasn't long. Ten minutes, tops." She frowned. "But I've got to agree with Iruma-san. I don't get why it matters how long he was in there for."

Ouma huffed, propping his chin up with one of his hands. "Because if it was only ten minutes, he physically wouldn't have been able to pull it off. C'mon, keep up."

"Hold on, why wouldn't he have been able to do that?" Momota's eyebrows knitted together as doubt laced his words. "It doesn't take that long to stab someone, does it?"

"Well, no. But it isn't just stabbing someone." Amami chuckled humorlessly, rolling his shoulders back. "It's also the clean up and cover up. We mentioned it earlier, when we ruled out the possibility of the murder happening in the morning. It's impossible for the culprit to have killed Yumeno, cleaned up and left within the dining hall opening and the body discovery announcement. The same principle applies here."

Kiibo leaned forward, holding up a hand. "Might I add that while the action of stabbing itself might be quick, that does not account for the time it takes for the victim to bleed out." He lowered his hand to tuck his finger under his chin, pressing his lips together. "I noticed that Yumeno-san's body was positioned strangely. It gave an impression of having just fallen asleep, but the scene shows signs of a struggle occuring."

"You're suggesting that the culprit positioned the body to appear as such." Shinguuji stated with a curious glance at the robot. "And subsequently, the culprit had to have waited for the victim to bleed out, to do so without any movement from said victim. How intriguing."

"Which would have taken longer than ten minutes!" Akamatsu finished with a bright smile, seemingly happy enough with proving one classmate innocent that it didn't register with her that another still committed the crime. A quick glance revealed a shadow of a smile on the detective's face. "So it's impossible for Saihara-kun to have killed Yumeno-san."

"So this was another dead end." Hoshi murmured, disappointment weighing his words before he raised an eyebrow. "Well, what now?"

"Is it really a dead end, though?" Chabashira wrung her hands together, a nervous action that contrasted her firm tone. Ouma assumed she didn't want to let go of the only lead they had, but even Iruma had given up on pushing the matter, if her sulking meant anything. "What if someone else helped him clean up? That way, he could leave quickly enough not to be suspicious, but still leave as little evidence as possible."

Tojo frowned, eyes narrowing slightly. "What would motivate someone to help him?"

"The rules say the blackened will leave if they survive the trial, right?" Angie hummed, cocking her head. "Someone might help Shuichi so they are both the blackened, and then they can leave with him!"

Gonta seemed as confused as ever, tugging at the strap of his bug cage. "But would a helper count as the blackened?"

It was a good question, and they were lucky enough that Monokuma appeared to feel gracious enough to answer it, if not condescendingly. "Of course they aren't! If you wanna get out, you gotta commit the crime yourself! I'm not here to hand out _freebies_."

"So there's no reason to just help with the clean up of a murder." Harukawa murmured, muffled as she bit her fingernail but loud enough for everyone to hear. "It's unlikely the culprit had help, and because of the time constraint, we can safely remove Saihara from the suspect list."

"That doesn't mean it was a waste!" Kiibo said encouragingly, looking pointedly at Hoshi, who was looking back with interest. "By discussing this possibility, we were able to rule out both a potential suspect, and the relevancy of the outer entrance. We wouldn't have been able to do so without this conversation."

Iruma let out an overly dramatic sigh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yeah, sure, but we don't have the time to talk about whether each dumbass in this room could've killed Yumeno or not. That would be time-consuming as shit."

"Perhaps, but we don't have to discuss everyone. Merely those who are highly suspicious." Shinguuji explained, and Ouma wasn't sure if the lowering of his head was intentional, but it did cast a wonderfully ominious shadow over his eyes. "Of course, if we come to the conclusion that none of them are the culprit, then we'll have to widen our prospects."

"Okay, that sounds like a solid plan, but how about we recap what we know so far?" Ouma said lazily, even though his eyes held no room for argument. He hadn't straightened up from his position leaning over the handrail, nor did he plan to. "Might as well make sure we're all on the same page, y'know?"

"I've got this!" Momota cleared his throat, his smile dimming as he began to count off on his fingers. "So from what we've said, the murder happened from 9 to 10pm. The culprit entered the dining hall through the main door, grabbed a knife and then stabbed Yumeno when she came back from the bathroom. They stayed there until she bled out." He faltered, becoming more uncertain. "We don't know what they did afterwards except that they did some clean up. That's it, right?"

"Are we sure about that?" Shirogane asked, her expression pinched. The question itself seemed a bit out of nowhere, and assuming she had reached some helpful epiphany, Ouma tilted his head to allow his bangs to fall away from his eyes.

Momota's eyes widened, embarrassed even if he tried to cover it with his nonchalant question. "What, am I wrong?" 

"Oh, no, that's not it. Your recap was fine." Shirogane reassured with a small smile, before joining her hands together in front of her with a more serious expression. "It's just- we only know the timeframe because of Chabashira-san's account, you know? And the only person who could have testified anything before 9pm is dead."

"Wait, so you're saying that we don't have proof that what Chabashira-san said actually happened." He could see the dawning dread on Akamatsu's face, in tandem with the dread that settled in his own gut. "And because the timeframe of the murder is dependent on her account-"

"You're suggesting that she's the culprit." Ouma cut in bluntly, because they all knew what was being insinuated here, and they didn't have time for flowery lead up. He dropped his hand from his chin, leaning back slightly despite not straightening fully. "Because her account would completely remove the possibility of us suspecting her."

"What?!" Chabashira shouted as she dug her fingernails into the handrail, horror clear across her face. Once again, Ouma really wasn't surprised by her reaction. "I'd never- never _do_ that-!"

"I'm not saying you plainly did it!" Shirogane waved her hands placatingly, mildly frantic in her attempt to calm her. "It's just...something to think about. I don't _want_ to believe you killed Yumeno-san."

Chabashira huffed, but relaxed, gaze falling to the floor. They all knew that, in a situation like this, they had to suspect everyone, even those that did seem closer to the victim.

Ouma watched her take a shaky breath as she released her grip on the handrail, thinking over the claim. They were going to have to talk about it, no matter what, and he had no qualms about that. Sure, he wasn't exactly convinced that Chabashira killed Yumeno, even under the consideration that she had managed to lie to him and get away with it. 

But a possibility is a possibility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These notes are going to be a bit brief because I don't want to risk giving anything away, but man I really underestimated how hard writing a dialogue-heavy scene (with enough speakers that I have to specify who says almost everything) with limited room for actions would be
> 
> Also, I don't know how many people pay attention to the titles, but as a rule of thumb, all the trial chapters are going to have latin titles. They'll be phrases split over the chapter titles for a single trial, which I'll provide a translation for at the end of the trial chapters! 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I'll see you next chapter!


	7. 1.6 : Hora Incerta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trial rushes forward, towards the equally thrilling yet dreaded conclusion.

"Okay, so let's say that, hypothetically, Chabashira is the culprit." Amami placed his hands on the handrail, calling Ouma's attention back to the group. He appeared calm, aside from the focused glint of his eyes. "Let's say that, in this scenario, her account is invalid. We know that Yumeno was dead by morning, and that the murder is unlikely to have happened during nighttime. We also know that Chabashira has a solid alibi for the 9 to 10 timeframe. That means we're saying that the murder occured before 9pm, right?"

"That would all be correct, according to what we've already discussed, yes." Kiibo agreed with a slow nod. "And if we're dismissing everything that was reliant on Chabashira's account, I suppose our assumption as to how the culprit entered the dining hall is also irrelevant."

"So basically, we're back at square one." Hoshi sighed with tired resignation, before cracking a small smile. "Well, anyone got a topic, or piece of evidence to kick us off again?"

There wasn't an immediate response, but there wasn't enough time for Ouma to single out anything in particular before Tojo spoke up. "My apologies Chabashira-san, but may I ask you a question?"

"Uh- yeah, sure!" Chabashira sounded more upbeat after having a moment to compose herself, even if the tone was clearly forced and openly contradicted by her nervous fidgeting. Then again, maybe she just hadn't been expecting to be addressed directly now that the suspicion fell on her. "I mean, if it helps you prove that I'm not the culprit any faster, then I'm up for it."

"You said that you were having tea with Yumeno-san, and the teacup at the scene does act as proof of that, at least. Were you the one who made the tea?" 

Ouma instantly knew where this was going and, admittedly, his curiosity piqued. He finally straightened up as Chabashira squinted one eye, confused. "Yeah, I offered because Yumeno-san was tired, and I didn't want to risk her burning herself! Why? Does it matter?"

Tojo's gaze steeled, and her reluctance was only given away by an exhale. "Because when I was checking the tea by Yumeno-san's body, I noticed it had an unusual smell. I think someone spiked it."

"What?! Is that true?" Momota exclaimed with widened eyes, and similar, smaller reactions spread through the group. 

Not everyone seemed convinced by the statement though, made apparent by the frown carved into Shinguuji's face. "Can anyone confirm that? For all we know, you could be fabricating such evidence to protect yourself." 

Ouma made the executive decision to reply almost immediately, because he doubted anyone else found something wrong with the tea. In full honesty, he was surprised Tojo found it at all. "I can. I found that the tea had a weirdly chemical smell too, when I was inspecting the cup." He could see realisation cross Kiibo's face in the corner of his eye, but he ignored it. 

Shirogane gasped, shoulders raising as she held her hands to her chest "Really? Then...are you saying that you think someone poisoned her?"

"Not just anyone!" Iruma laughed incredulously, pointing at Tojo with a grin despite her tangible disbelief. "You're saying that Chabashira -  _ head-over-heels, stalker Chabashira _ \- poisoned her!"

"H-Hey, I'm not a stalker! Just because I really liked her doesn't mean I'd ever breach her privacy!" Chabashira argued, genuine hurt flashing in her eyes. Ouma couldn't tell if it was because of the nature of the insult, or because she was being insulted on top of being accused for murder. "And I didn't know the tea was poisoned. Where would it even come from? We didn't have any access to poisons!"

"Denying it just makes you sound even more like the culprit." Harukawa muttered flatly. Nobody had a retort to that, least of all Chabashira, because the child caregiver had a point. 

Instead, Angie chirped from her podium with a smile of thinly veiled skepticism. "And that isn't true. There were chemicals in the warehouse, Atua agrees with me! You could have poisoned her with something from there."

"But why would Chabashira-san poison Yumeno-san?" Gonta asked, increasingly upset. Ouma was quickly noticing a divide between those of them who refused to believe friends could kill each other, and those that knew they could because it already happened.

Included in the former group was, unsurprisingly, Momota. Denial was fascinating, if not slightly annoying. "Yeah! Why would Chabashira  _ want  _ to do that?"

" _ Clearly _ , to kill her." Shinguuji readjusted his eyepatch, tone slightly more condescending than necessary and satisfying Ouma's need to mock Momota himself. "Impending doom can be harsh to a person's psyche, and Yumeno-san was undoubtedly the easiest among us to kill, with her sluggish nature."

"Yeah, but Chabashira's tough. If she's gonna kill someone, why would she kill the person she was closest to when she was perfectly capable of killing someone else?" Momota had one hand on his waist, the other making sharp gestures to emphasise his point. "She could've easily killed...I don't know, Ouma or something and still get the same result, right?"

"Hey!" Ouma snapped, though his tone was harsher than he felt. It was irritating to be considered weak, but he had more important things to worry about at the moment, so he'd let it side. 

Besides, Momota had already offended someone else; Chabashira leaned forward, bracing herself on the handrail as she glared. "I wouldn't kill  _ anyone _ , period! I may dislike degenerates, but I don't want anyone to die, and definitely not because of me!"

"Sorry to break it to you, but that doesn't sound very convincing coming from a fucking suspect of all people." Iruma mocked, folding her arms over her chest and only shrinking slightly when Chabashira's (lighter) glare shifted over to her.

"I've already said that everyone has a capability to kill. Not that I'm saying you did it, Chabashira, because you seem like an emotional person so I can't see you choosing to kill Yumeno, out of everyone here." Hoshi explained calmly, hands in his pockets and eyes closed. He opened them as he raised an eyebrow, meeting Chabashira's glare directly. "But you admitted to making the tea, and the obvious answer is that the person who made the tea is the one who poisoned it."

"Hold on a second." Akamatsu frowned, thinking as her hands hovered in front of her. "Chabashira-san may be the most likely because she made the tea, but there's still a possibility it was someone else, right? We can't just dismiss it because it isn't the most likely option, not in a situation like this."

"We're not dismissing it." Tojo's eyebrows furrowed in mild disappointment, paired with a faint frown of her own. "It simply makes more sense to explore the likeliest possibility first, and if that proves to be false, we can move onto the possibility of others being involved."

Ouma let out a laugh, lacking humor as he melted back into his previous position, leaning on the handrail. "I don't think it matters which possibility we talk about first."

He earned several dubious glances, but only Shirogane graced him with a verbal response, full of curiosity. "Really? Why's that?" He supposed the surprise made sense: it sounded like he was trying to divert the conversation, but they all already knew that none of them would have any motive to help a culprit. 

Even so, he took the opportunity to let a patronizing smile show, because he never let go of an opportunity to act better than everyone else. "Because whoever poisoned the tea isn't the culprit. The Monokuma File said that Yumeno-chan died from a stab wound, so the poison is irrelevant!" He paused, before huffing, the action blowing some strands of hair out of his face. "I mean, I guess the culprit could have poisoned her too, but why do that if you were just gonna end up stabbing her anyway?"

Unfortunately, not everyone accepted his flawless logic, made apparent by Momota's grumbled reply. "But Monokuma gave us that. It could've easily been fake, to trick us into voting incorrectly so he could kill us all!"

The bears were babbling offense, something about the sanctity of the Monokuma Files and how it would be a boring ending anyway, but Ouma was more interested in Iruma's bark of laughter. "And how do you explain the literal stab wound and all that blood, astronut? There's no way Yumeno  _ didn't  _ die from that."

"But then why would someone poison the tea?" Gonta asked, tilting his head with a slight, and almost certainly involuntary, pout.

Shinguuji hummed in thought, eye following the towering heights of the ceiling above before languidly returning to the group. "There are various different types of poisons, I'm sure. Perhaps Chabashira-san poisoned Yumeno-san to ensure her reflexes would be slower, and stabbed her once she were sure she was incapacitated." 

"Pretty sure Yumeno-chan didn't need to be poisoned for her reflexes to be slower." Ouma muttered into his palm, having propped his head up with his elbow and turned his lower face into his hand. Yes, it was a callous remark and he was sure Chabashira would love to throw him for that.

It also, more importantly, drew the attention of Amami, who made a noise of disagreement. "If you're attacked, you'd get a shot of adrenaline and panic that might make you act faster than usual. The culprit might have just wanted to ensure everything went well, regardless of whether the poison made a difference or not."

"B-But how would I have grabbed the knife without Yumeno-san noticing?" Chabashira argued, sounding slightly more frantic than before with the suspicion still placed heavily on her. On account of his doubt regarding her being the culprit, Ouma almost pitied her, but there equally wasn't any convincing evidence he could pull up in her favour, and he was never the type to let something as flimsy as  _ feelings  _ count as reasoning.

"If you were already hanging out with Himiko in the dining hall, I don't think she'd question it if you went to the kitchen." Angie mused, lips upturned into a smile that was entirely disingenuous. "And she would be focusing on the tea! It would be easy for you to come back with a knife hidden behind your back, because Himiko wasn't a very observant person."

"But I wouldn't do that!" She insisted, leaning forward with eyes full of earnestness. Angie didn't look convinced, and even though she seemed to genuinely want to avenge Yumeno by finding her killer, she seemed to be way too hasty about it. 

"Okay, but pump the brakes for a damn minute." Iruma called with a wave of her hand, interrupting the strange, passive aggressive staring contest between Chabashira and Angie. "We've got a nice little scenario figured out here 'nd all, but what about the shit in the bathroom? Where does that fit in?"

"Ah, yes, that." Kiibo's eyes lit up with recognition as he tapped a finger to his chin. He continued quickly, to appease the confused looks from the rest of their classmates. "Iruma-san found traces of smeared blood in one of the sinks in the first floor girls' bathroom. I must admit, I'm not sure where it would fit in with our presumed narrative."

"Blood, huh?" Hoshi mumbled, managing to look only slightly perturbed. "I'm guessing the culprit went to the bathroom to clean that off the knife and their hands."

"I mean, that would make sense but," Shirogane smiled sheepishly, pressing a hand to her cheek. "why would they go to the bathroom to do that when they could have just used the kitchen? That would have made it easier to return the knife, right?"

Harukawa sighed, fidgeting with her sleeve. "Maybe they didn't want to stay at the crime scene for longer than necessary. You wouldn't want to be found over a dead body with a knife, would you?"

"But what if they got caught in the bathroom? That would still be bad for them." Gonta said with a subtle tilt of his head. It was undoubtedly a hole in the theory, but it certainly wasn't unheard of that people acted irrationally, especially in the process of a murder.

"It was less likely for someone to run into them in the bathroom." Tojo's hands folded neatly in front of her, coupling with a stern expression. "Since it was the girls' bathroom, it drastically lowered the amount of people who might enter on them cleaning up." 

"Not to mention, the culprit doesn't have to have been thinking logically the whole time." Amami spoke up with those dark eyes of his, voicing Ouma's own thoughts in a gentler way than if Ouma himself shared them. "We're all human - they could've just forgotten that they could use the kitchen. Not many of us actively use it, after all. Definitely not as frequently as the bathroom."

" _ Most _ of us are human." Harukawa breathed, just loud enough to attract Kiibo's attention. He glanced over at her with a hint of annoyance, and looked like he might argue against her, but didn't get the chance before the discussion continued. 

"I guess that makes sense." Momota conceded, rubbing the back of his neck before something akin to realisation flickered over his face. "But hey, if we're talking about possibilities - would it be possible that Yumeno was attacked in the bathroom? Y'know, since Chabashira mentioned her going to the bathroom in her account, too."

"Assuming she isn't lying about that, yeah." Ouma said despite knowing Chabashira hadn't, because as much as he enjoyed working together, he was also naturally inclined to be difficult. 

"Well, there's no real proof that she lied about her account, and we need to explore all possibilities, right?" Akamatsu smiled, anxiety underlying her optimism as if she was expecting an argument to unfold. To be fair, with the way the trial had been going so far, it was certainly likely.

"Right, of course!" Angie clapped her hands together, rocking up onto her toes before returning to her normal height. "So what Kaito and Kaede are suggesting, is that Tenko followed Himiko into the bathroom and killed her there? Or that Tenko was telling the truth and someone else attacked Himiko in the bathroom?"

"No, that's impossible." Saihara cut in before anyone could answer, speaking for the first time since he had been removed from the suspect list. It was almost impressive; how much attention he could attract with such a quiet voice. 

"Impossible for Yumeno-san to have been attacked in the bathroom?" Shinguuji raised his eyebrows, looking at the detective expectantly for clarification. "Why?"

He didn't look up, the brim of his hat still casting shadows over his face and hiding his eyes from view. "Because I witnessed Yumeno-san exiting the bathroom, alive and unharmed, and when Chabashira-san was already outside."

It was silent enough to hear a pin drop. 

The worst part of it all was Ouma knew, instinctively, that he wasn't lying. Even without eye contact to prove it, his presentation of the statement was unmistakably genuine, which meant he had been  _ knowingly keeping that information to himself.  _

He wasn't surprised the silence was broken, it was by outrage. In fact, it was expected, when Chabashira sucked in a breath before exploding into a shout. "You knew that I couldn't have been the culprit all along, and you didn't  _ tell _ us?! You- you  _ degenerate! _ "

"So we wasted all that time? Not cool." Hoshi grumbled, something dangerous in his eyes as he hunched his shoulders. 

"Saihara-kun, why would you keep something like that from us?" Akamatsu cried, leaning forward with a palpable mix of disbelief and desperation. "We- we could have saved so much time!"

"I am also curious about your reasoning." Tojo said firmly, the hands gripping her skirt trembling slightly with repressed irritation. 

Gonta nodded, unbridled sadness on his face. "Gonta doesn't understand, either. Why would Saihara-kun keep things from us?" 

"Could you please explain yourself, Saihara?" Amami prompted, and though his overall expression was calm, his arms were folded too tightly for him to truly be calm about the situation. "There must be some reason that you kept crucial evidence to yourself so-"

"No, there doesn't." 

Amami, startled by the interruption, furrowed his eyebrows. "What?"

"There doesn't have to be a proper reason. It's entirely possible that I just didn't want to share my knowledge." Saihara muttered, finally lifting his head to reveal his eyes, and Ouma's breath hitched. Because his eyes weren't just firm, they were  _ cold _ \- an expression that felt like it was more suited to Harukawa, or Shinguuji. Even though his fingers twitched nervously against the handrail, his gaze was chilling and his tense form lacked the faint warmth that he had received when he talked to him on the patio, just yesterday.

The sharp contrast of the situation drew a breathless laugh from Ouma, and suddenly he was leaning over the handrail less for casual airs and more for legitimate support. "Sure, sure, but why wouldn't you? You're the Ultimate Detective, Saihara-chan,  _ surely _ you-"

"And why does my talent matter?" Ouma was almost surprised when Saihara met his eyes, as if he hadn't had an aversion to eye contact for the whole time they've known him. "I may be the Ultimate Detective, but I'm my own person first. I'm not obligated to share everything just because I'm a detective. Besides, I don't want anyone to start relying on me for this sort of thing." There was something sharper than usual in his tone, as if daring someone to argue, but unfortunately, his statement was too controversial to be ignored.

"You didn't say anything because you don't want people to  _ rely  _ on you?" Chabashira repeated slowly, almost incredulous, before scoffing. "How selfish can you be?! No, of course you're selfish. That's typical male behaviour!"

"Seriously dude, it's not like we're asking you to figure out the culprit yourself." Momota rested a hand on his waist, and even though he wasn't as openly hostile as some of the others, he was clearly annoyed. "But you can't expect us to figure out who it is if you're withholding info."

With those words, a possible scenario floated to the forefront of Ouma's mind. He didn't like it, because it would be extremely frustrating if true, but it would make a lot of sense. Before he could reign himself in, he uttered in a low, careful tone. "You already know who the culprit is, don't you?"

A suffocating silence enveloped them once again, and he was starting to hate it. Saihara didn't drop his head, surprisingly enough. Instead, his eyes simply dropped to the floor, his brows slightly drawn together. His voice was near inaudible when he replied, but in the damned silence, it was like he shouted. "I do."

"You do? Who is it?" Shirogane asked as she leaned forward, fiddling with the hem of her jacket. Across the room, a number of the group appeared to be hopeful with the end in sight, while everyone appeared curious to some degree. Ouma only felt a twist in his gut. 

Gonta smiled, bright and enthusiastic in a way that made the knot in his gut tighten. "Oh! If Saihara-kun knows who the culprit is, then everyone will be safe!" 

"Well? Come ooon, tell us! Don't leave us waiting!" Angie bounced on her podium, excited to finally have someone to blame for Yumeno's death, presumably. To finally know who killed her friend. A mere glance in Chabashira's direction showed a similar hope reflected on her face.

It was a shame, that Saihara shook his head as he lowered it again, returning to his usual position with his face shadowed. This was a bad move on his part; the courtroom burst into a symphony of disagreements and questions, but Chabashira was the one who caught his attention, shouting with fierce eyes. 

"What- WHY NOT?!"

"Because I don't want to." Saihara's words prompted another moment of pause, and even Ouma, with his  _ endless _ fountain of patience for bullshit (out of experience and amusement), was miffed by the short answer. The detective continued talking before anyone else had the opportunity to yell at him. "The reasoning behind that is irrelevant. In theory, you should be able to work out the culprit yourselves. You've already gotten this far without much help from me, so it shouldn't make much of a difference if I didn't contribute."

"But if you know the culprit, then continuing this trial is pointless. Don't you want to end this already?" Luckily for Saihara, Akamatsu was the one who spoke, softer than the response he might have gotten from the majority of the others. Even then, the pianist spoke hesitantly, her voice lacking her usual optimism. It seemed she didn't know how to process Saihara's odd behaviour either. 

He stubbornly refused to respond, and it didn't take a genius to realise he wouldn't answer anything regarding the culprit directly. Harukawa let out a short huff, shoulders hunched as she stared daggers. "And what if we reach the wrong conclusion? You let us walk into our death?" The words were bitter, and Saihara's feet shuffled in place in acknowledgment. 

It took a moment for him to verbally respond, fidgeting with the sleeves of his coat. "If it came down to that, then of course, I'd stop you before you guys could vote incorrectly." Ouma would dare say there was an offended edge to his tone, but it was faint enough that he couldn't be sure. "But...I don't think it will come down to that."

"So that's it? Not even an olive branch? Nothing?" Ouma complained, throwing his arms up in an exaggerated display despite being certain some of his classmates genuinely felt this exasperation. "Unbelievable!"

Saihara said nothing, back to being a silent observer, so it seemed. It was both boring and annoying, and neither of those were a compliment. However, they had better things to worry about - this had thrown them off track enough as it is - and Kiibo obviously felt similarly if his unnecessary clearing of his throat held any weight. "Assuming Saihara-kun is telling the truth with his witness account, as we have already discussed why lying would be unfavourable to anyone excepting the culprit and we have already ruled him out, then the murder must have occured in our predetermined time frame, correct?"

"Well, why don't we ask him?" Amami turned his head to address Saihara directly, his jaw clenching slightly. "You said you don't want to tell us who the culprit is. You never said anything against asking you for help. Can you at least give us an exact time frame to work with? A full hour has too much possibility."

Though his face was half hidden, his surprise was easy to read. Maybe Saihara had assumed he would be left alone, after dropping something as substantial as knowing the culprit into the conversation. Maybe he assumed that after marking himself as untrustworthy, he'd be ignored. His previous cool confidence had faded, and he stumbled on his answer. "I saw Yumeno-san exit the bathroom at around, um, 9:10. The culprit exited and followed her shortly afterwards. If I had to, um, assume, I'd say the murder most likely took place between 9:10 and 9:30, roughly?"

"Wait, wait, wait. The culprit followed her  _ out _ of the girls' bathroom?" Momota repeated with narrowed eyes, latching onto the same piece of information that made Ouma curious. "Then the culprit has to be a girl, right?"

Chabashira instantly grew defensive on the girls' behalf, glaring at Momota. "No! It could still be anyone...right?"

"Right! Any guy can get into the girls' bathroom as long as he's enough of a pervert!" Iruma leered, paraphrasing the point Amami had made back in that bathroom.

Tojo mused, a finger tucked under her chin. "While it's possible, I don't believe it's likely to be a boy, considering the fact that the murder did not occur in the bathroom itself." 

"We can worry about the specifics later." Akamatsu offered a small smile, tugging at the strap of her backpack in a show of nervousness. He briefly wondered what she had in there. "For now, maybe we should start with figuring out who the possible suspects are?"

"Sounds good." Hoshi rubbed the back of his head, moving his hat in the process as his eyes squinted in thought. "Let's see. First things first, we can take anyone with a solid alibi during that time off the list, right?"

"Right." Kiibo took a moment to glance around the circle of podiums before elaborating. "Removing everyone with an indisputable alibi would leave Iruma-san, Saihara-kun, Angie-san, Shirogane-san, Harukawa-san, Ouma-kun and you, Hoshi-kun." The tennis pro nodded in agreement. 

"Hey, hold on. I didn't do shit!" Iruma retorted, only to be promptly ignored, as she should be.

"Considering what Chabashira-san and Gonta-kun told us earlier, it should also be safe to assume that anybody who was not already in the main building is not the culprit." Shinguuji paused, to quickly figure out the math of his suggestion. His lips pursed together once he reached a conclusion. "This lowers the suspect list further to Angie-san, Shirogane-san and Saihara-kun."

"It can't be Saihara-kun, because we already talked about how it couldn't be him." Gonta said slowly, his eyes widening as he looked up with horror, as if they weren't already trying to solve a murder. "So the culprit is either Angie-san or Shirogane-san?" Saihara didn't speak or present any huge reaction, so Ouma liked to think they were on the right lines. It aligned with what he had already assumed anyway - the details from this point on was where he was unsure.

"What?! But- But I'd never kill anyone!" Shirogane exclaimed, which was another understandable reaction, as well as a lie. They all knew that everyone had a capability - they had discussed it twice in this trial alone.

Angie, similarly, didn't take the accusation very well. She laughed lightly, though her smile was strained. "Why would you think I did it? Himiko was a dear friend of mine, I'd never do that!"

"If they can suspect me, they can suspect you too." Chabashira sniffed with a hint of pettiness, shoulders hunching. "Anyway, aren't  _ you _ the one asking for blood offerings? That does make you seem more likely to kill."

"Blood offerings to Atua operate under a strictly consensual basis! I have never forced someone to give up their blood if they are unable or unwilling." Angie said, slightly louder than necessary, her smile slipping slightly as she pouted. Clearly, it was a bit of a touchy subject.

"Well, if it's not either of you virgins, then is there any evidence to prove it?" Iruma mocked, unimpressed despite having shown a similar reaction to accusations towards herself. Despite her taunting, nobody was able to bring anything up, and it was pretty obvious that they had reached a stalemate. 

Tentatively, Akamatsu broke the silence before it could really settle. "I- I'm sure we can figure this out. We just need to find something to talk through. Any ideas?"

Considering how thoroughly he had investigated, Ouma had a feeling that, much to his chagrin, they wouldn't be able to find the culprit based on evidence alone. Luckily, he had a back-up method for mining information. All he needed to do was pull it off correctly. "Oh! I have one! Me, pick me!" He waved his arm obnoxiously until Akamatsu gave a slow blink and gestured at him to continue, at which he broke into a grin. "So, our beloved suspects, I'm gonna throw out some questions. They may seem irrelevant, I don't care, answer them."

"Okay, I guess I can do that." Shirogane replied after a moment of hesitance, smiling sheepishly. There was visible confusion on her face, but he didn't really expect any less. Angie had a similar expression, her smile plastic as she gave a long hum of thought and nodded. 

"Ouma-kun, what are you doing?" Kiibo whispered from beside Chabashira, expression pinched in uncertainty. Ouma didn't say anything in response, only winked with a half smirk before turning to address the room, throwing his arms out. Whether people agreed to his methods or not, it's not like anyone had any better ideas.

"Suspects! I'm just gonna verify where you were during the murder, m'kay? Angie-chan was in the warehouse, and Shirogane-chan was in the A/V Room, right?" Twin nods met his question, and his smile widened as he continued. "Great! Now, what were you doing there? Angie-chan, you answer first. We need to keep  _ some  _ order here."

"I already told you." Angie complained with a tilt of the head, before brightening up before anyone could argue. "Ah, nevermind! I'll say it again for the class. I went to go look for art supplies, but I got distracted. There are so many things to see in the warehouse! So I spent longer than I planned to in there."

He bobbed his head along with her words, to make sure she felt listened to or something along those lines. "You got distracted, you say? What kind of things caught your attention?"

"Oh, they have some toy helicopters that looked interesting, and some rolls of fabric that were very pretty. I don't usually make art with fabric, but I can appreciate the colours and patterns, and they were very bright and eye-catching!" Angie gushed with a smile that was more genuine than the rest she had shown throughout the trial, pressing her hands to her cheeks. She faltered, and her expression dimmed, as if remembering why she was sharing this. "There were more, but those were the things that distracted me first."

"Great!" Ouma didn't respond any further, turning to look at Shirogane as he propped his chin on his knuckles. "And what about you, Shirogane-chan?"

"Ah, I already told you, too." She reminded, not as whiny as Angie had been, before lifting a finger as she thought. "I was in the A/V Room, like you said, because I was plain stressed and was looking for something to help me relax. A movie seemed like the best way to get my mind off things, y'know?"

He nodded empathetically, overdramatically hushing Momota's attempt at asking him what the hell he was doing before clicking his tongue. "What did you watch?"

Her eyes lit up at the prompt. "I can't remember the title, but it was definitely a comedy of sorts, because I thought that would be the best thing to take my mind off things. The jokes were brilliant, and the-" Shirogane continued, but her words melted into static in his brain. Instead, he focused on her excited eyes, on the contained gestures that seemed to drift in front of her face, until he stepped in before one of the others snapped in annoyance.

"Not even any death jokes?" Then, at her surprised (and mildly horrified) shake of the head, he sighed and slumped. "Sounds like a boring comedy."

"How is this helping us find the culprit?" Hoshi interjected, shuffling with a hint of irritation. This development was fine, seeing as Ouma had already asked all the questions he had.

"Oh, these questions don't help at all!" He admitted cheerfully, waving a dismissive hand and not allowing anyone to voice their anger as he went on. "Forget about them! I know who the culprit is!"

Nobody seemed impressed, and Shinguuji raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you wouldn't be able to realise who the culprit is based on those measly questions."

Ouma laughed, placing his hands on his hips. "Yeah, because it  _ isn't _ based on those questions, silly! I was stalling because I was trying to remember something, and now I've got it!"

"You remember something?" Akamatsu asked with hope in her eyes as she rocked forwards slightly. Ouma nodded, grinning back at her.

"Yep! I didn't mention it earlier because I didn't realise it happened during the time frame. I had gone to the school shop around 8:30 and I saw something when I was leaving." He explained, his grin slipping slightly even as the knot that had been festering in his chest the whole morning loosened with his words. "Someone entering the dining hall. Obviously, I didn't think anything of it at the time, but thinking back, it's a bit suspicious, y'know?"

"Is that so?" Tojo's eyes widened, even though her expression remained relatively impassive. "How did Chabashira-san and Gokuhara-kun not see you leaving?"

"Yeah, Gonta also wondered that."

"I didn't want to talk to anyone, so I walked super quick back. I'm really fast when I want to be." He smiled, cocking his head before sighing. "I know, I know, weak explanation, but that's what happened! Honestly, I dunno how neither of them noticed me either."

There was a beat of silence, before Harukawa slowly murmured. "It's not completely impossible. With his smaller stature, he might have been able to pull it off. Especially if he was fast and those two were momentarily distracted with what they were doing."

"But if he was inside at the time of the murder, then doesn't he count as a suspect?" Shirogane argued gently, biting her lip. "He could be plain lying, for all we know."

"He could, but considering his assistance in the trial, I find it unlikely. And if he isn't the culprit himself, then he has nothing to gain by lying about witnessing the culprit." Kiibo said smoothly and holy shit, was he defending him? He wasn't sure if the robot knew that he was lying, but either way, it was certainly helpful. "Besides, we can always consider him as a suspect after we have exhausted all other possibilities. For now, we should assume his word can be trusted so we can make some progress."

Apparently, this preposition was enough to settle anyone else's apprehension, because nobody argued when Amami spoke. "Okay then. Who did you see entering the dining hall, Ouma?"

The smile that stretched on his face was thin, and as much as he wanted to bring his scarf up to hide it, he resisted the urge.

"Shirogane."

The lack of honorifics made the statement more serious, when compared to his usual streak. Angie brightened, no doubt happy to not be the one accused. "Ah yes, yes, Atua predicted that was true!"

Shirogane, on the other hand, instantly blanched. "W-What?! No, you're definitely lying then!" She seemed panicked, but that didn't exactly prove her guilt when anyone would have reacted similarly when accused.

"I'm not, but even if I was, can you prove it?" Ouma's smile had dissolved, leaving his expression carefully blank as his eyes hardened. The silence, and Shirogane's averted eyes, answered his question perfectly. "I can prove that you weren't in the A/V Room, either way."

"You can?" Chabashira narrowed her eyes, clearly unhappy with having to suspect a girl but unbearably curious. 

"I can!" Instinctively, his lips curled upwards, urging him to fall into a smug expression. He leaned up from the handrail, turning his head in Chabashira's direction despite his gaze sliding past her. "Because I was in the A/V Room with Kiibo last night, and we watched comedy movies too. Right, Kiiboy?"

He watched the robot's expression, as it shifted from confused to understanding, and he knew his point was secured. "Right! All the movies we watched were from the comedy section too, but no matter what the blurb said, there was always a recurring theme of death jokes. It appeared as if Monokuma didn't want us to be able to completely forget about the killing game, so Shirogane-san's comment about watching something without any death jokes doesn't make logical sense."

"So those stupid-ass questions actually had a point!" Iruma said with a gasp, holding a hand to her chest, but her fingers were trembling. She wasn't as unaffected by the stress of this trial, after all. "I guess you weren't just jerking off to interrogation!"

"Of course an idiot slut like you wouldn't be able to figure out my genius plan, but yep! They did." Ouma sighed, speaking quickly to get his retort out of the way and focus on Shirogane's increased fidgeting.

"That doesn't prove I wasn't in the A/V Room!"

"No, it doesn't." Hoshi agreed, an intimidating aura starting to manifest around him as he stared at Shirogane sternly. "But it's proof that you lied about what you were doing, and if you lied about that, it makes you a lot more suspicious."

"Besides, what else are you gonna do in the A/V Room, if not watch a movie?" Momota reasoned, shockingly enough, with a groan. "Look, I don't wanna suspect you, but you aren't exactly making a good case for yourself." A pause, before a hesitant addition. "You killed Yumeno, didn't you?"

"No!" It wasn't quite a shout, but it was louder than necessary, louder than her usual volume. Shirogane took a breath, shaking her head. "I didn't. I mean, how would you explain the poison? If I followed Yumeno-san from the bathroom to the dining hall, then I wouldn't have had the chance to poison the tea without Chabashira-san and Yumeno-san being there to witness it." She was trying to speak steadily, and funnily enough, she was mostly successful. But Ouma was well-versed in lies and acting, and he knew that her words were just a bit too quick to be anything but frantic.

Akamatsu picked at her cuffs, her response reluctant. "If we think about it like that, then nobody  _ but _ Chabashira-san could have poisoned her."

Shirogane, thrilled by the support to her point, instantly smiled. "Yes, exactly-"

"No, it could have easily been someone else." Amami's voice intruded before she could finish her agreement, and she looked up, bewildered. Ouma was sure that was a hint of fear in her eyes.

"Eh?"

"It couldn't have been you, because Saihara presumably witnessed you exiting the bathroom behind Yumeno, but anyone else could have used the span of time Yumeno was in the bathroom for, to poison her tea." He said, looking almost tired as he placed his hands on the handrail. Saihara neither confirmed nor denied the assumption. "We don't actually know for certain that the person who stabbed Yumeno and the person who poisoned her are the same, remember? When Ouma brought it up, he said that the poison is irrelevant, and he's right. It doesn't matter if you didn't poison her, as long as you were the one who stabbed her."

"Wait, so you're saying the poison was a failed murder attempt?  _ Two _ people tried to kill Yumeno-san in the same time frame?!" Chabashira gasped, seemingly scandalised, and he could understand why. The odds of two people targeting the same person was-

"The probability is low, but certainly plausible." Kiibo mused to the group, before his shoulders lowered and sadness settled in his eyes. "In that case, it is likely that Yumeno-san would have died last night, no matter what."

"So Yumeno-san was- was fated to die?" Gonta asked, his voice small. "That makes no sense!"

"Who gives a shit about that?" Iruma scoffed, her nails digging into her arms as she folded them across her chest an indicator of her nerves. "What  _ I'm _ hearing is that there's another fucking murderer in the group, and we can't even get rid of them because they weren't fast enough!"

"Be that as it may, it doesn't help us at all to worry over it." Shinguuji said with a huff, lips quirking humorlessly. "More importantly, it seems that Shirogane-san's attempts to dissuade us from the truth have ultimately failed."

"They're not attempts, I didn't do it!" Shirogane retalited, and this time she  _ did _ shout, though the subtle tremors that ran through her frame weren't particularly compelling. "Ouma-kun must be lying about seeing me, I didn't-!"

Hoshi pressed his mouth into a thin line. "Lying or not, we have already established that  _ you _ also lied with your account. Whether he lied or not is irrelevant at this point."

"Anyway, your pitiful harpy screeching proves you're the culprit by itself!" Iruma cackled, even though her death grip on her arms remained. 

Shirogane shook her head again, gripping her skirt tightly as she took another shuddering breath. "I didn't kill Yumeno-san! Please, I- I-"

"You're still in denial, is what you are." Ouma supplied flatly, before letting out a hum and tugging his scarf up. "How about this? I'll summarise everything so we're all on the same page, fill in the blanks, and you can take a sec to calm down, 'kay?"

He didn't get an actual reply, what with Shirogane dropping her head and hunching her shoulders, but some of the others voiced approval of the idea, so he clapped his hands together. "Okay! So, this case begins last night, at 9pm. Yumeno-chan and Chabashira-chan had been having tea, but because Yumeno-chan needed the bathroom, Chabashira-chan offered to escort her there before she left to exercise. Obviously, she agreed, and Chabashira-chan walked with her to the first floor girls' bathroom." He paused, pressing a finger to his lips as he looked upwards in thought. "Once they left, our mystery poisoner slipped into the dining hall to spike Yumeno-chan's tea. We don't know who it is, but it doesn't matter, because unfortunately, their devious plan failed."

A bitter smile bloomed on his face, and he slipped his sceptre from its holster, unable to resist the chance to be dramatic. "Why? Because when Yumeno-chan exited the bathroom at 9:10, she was followed from the bathroom back to the dining hall! Unfortunately for the culprit, Saihara-chan witnessed this while he was walking around the school, so we now know the poisoner and the culprit are seperate people. They didn't follow directly to avoid suspicion, which also gave Yumeno-chan time to settle back in the dining hall. Now, we don't know for sure if the culprit had aquired the knife before or after following Yumeno-chan back, but it doesn't particularly matter. With the time between Yumeno-chan returning and the culprit attacking, there's a possibility that she actually drank some of the tea, which would leave her distracted on account of the presumably strange taste." Shirogane was taking deep breath that shook her entire body, head still bowed. "In the end, it doesn't matter. The culprit surprised her, and stabbed her in the stomach. Yumeno-chan tried to fight back, which resulted in her kicking the chairs out and knocking over the cup. In the end though, she failed, and bled out."

There was a moment of tense silence, as everyone again acknowledged that one of their classmates were dead - soon to be two. "That wasn't the end, though. The culprit still had to clean up. They positioned Yumeno-chan's body to appear like she had fallen asleep, to make the murder less immediately obvious, and fixed most of the chairs. Honestly, it was a bit sloppy, but I assume that's because our culprit was worried about spending too long there and being caught over the body! That was also why they forgot they could use the kitchen sink to clean their knife, and instead returned to the girls' bathroom. They cleaned the blood off the knife and their hands in the sink furthest from the door, and cleaned the basin of the blood afterwards - but not thoroughly enough. They left behind blood smears in their haste to clean up, which led us to realising the bathroom was involved in the first place."

He sighed, twirling his sceptre and aiming it at the culprit. "Well, Shirogane Tsumugi, the Ultimate Cosplayer? Did I get the details right?"

Shirogane didn't reply for a moment, her breathing slowing as she calmed, before offering a simple nod. In the corner of his eye, he saw a flat smile flicker over Saihara's features.

"So you really did kill her." Momota looked down, closing his eyes and looking mildly pained. In fact, most of the class seemed to be torn between relief at finding the culprit and disappointment that it really  _ was  _ one of them. 

"B-But I don't get it!" Chabashira burst out, tears pricking in her eyes as she stared desperately at the culprit. "Why drove you to kill someone? Why  _ her _ ?!"

"I- I don't think we can blame her for that." Akamatsu said, attempting to be soothing even as her voice cracked. For all her hopeful speeches, that didn't mean she would handle this any better. "I mean, it was a difficult situation, you know?"

"Indeed. I don't believe she can be faulted for doing what she thought was required to survive. After all, it is the sheer will to survive that makes humanity so beautiful." Shinguuji held his hands over his chest, serene now that they had reached a conclusion.

Gonta sniffled, fiddling with his bug cage. "Gonta would like to know why Shirogane-san killed Yumeno-san, anyway. It'll help him accept it." The cosplayer finally glanced up, her eyes watery as she seemed to resign herself, and opened her mouth-

"Wait, wait, wait!" Monokid screeched, waving his arms. "Before you start having a disgusting heart-to-heart, there's something more important to do!"

"What more could there possibly be?" Harukawa muttered icily, balling her hands into fists. Monokuma merely laughed, the sound paired with the accomoanying giggles of the Monokubs grating against his ears.

"Isn't it obvious? The heart-racing excitement as the blackened and the spotless finally face off: it's VOTING TIME!"

And with the prompt, Ouma's attention was drawn to the small monitor embedded to the handrail of the podium as it flickered to life. On the screen, there was a sixteen square grid of their portraits, with an accompanying full body picture for each student. In the lower right was a large red button, and in the lower middle stood a countdown. He didn't bother wasting time, switching from Akamatsu's portrait to Shirogane's and pressing the button to enter his vote without a second thought. 

The portraits flipped to black, a chime indicated that his vote went through as he put his sceptre away. He didn't have to wait for long - less than a minute later, Monokuma began to speak again.

"And voting draws to a close. Now then, it's time for the results!"

A monitor appeared from a hidden part of the wall and lowered down in front of them. It lit up to a screen reading 'results', transitioning to a screen with all their names listed. Fourteen tallies appeared under Shirogane's name. One tally appeared under Ouma's. He could guess why.

"Who will be chosen as the blackened? Will you make the right choice, or the dreadfully wrong one?"

The screen turned to black, before being lit up once more by a word lit up in flashing colours: VERDICT. It faded into a graphic of a roulette wheel, each slot represented by a pixel rendition of a student and Monokuma's face in the center. A blinking yellow light began to travel around the circle, first at a fast pace before gradually slowing until it finally stopped on Shirogane. Her name flashed as confetti rained down on the screen, and Ouma let out his baited breath: it wasn't like he had doubted their choice, but the situation was stressful by default. He forced his muscles to relax as he closed his eyes and listened to the celebratory tune playing around the courtroom.

It was finally over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's y i k e s time!!
> 
> Writing Ouma as a protag is super interesting, because it gives me a brilliant opportunity to explore the extents of his ability to recognise other people's lies (see last chapter, in which it was mentioned that he finds it much more difficult to pick up lies of omission because most people lose their lying tics with them). That's why I designed this case so that Ouma's ability is practically the deciding factor; I do think he'd be confident enough to bet their lives on his ability to detect a lie.
> 
> As for the chapter titles!! 'mors certa, hora incerta' roughly translates to 'death is certain, its hour is uncertain'
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I'll see you next chapter!!


	8. 1.7 : Bloody Consequence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the trial over, the only logical next step is the culprit's punishment. Ouma really isn't all that excited, and neither is anyone else, but then again, who would be?

There was a brief interlude in which they all alighted from their podiums and gathered per Monokuma's instruction. The cubs hopped down from their weird podium to hand out pieces of paper to everyone, excluding Shirogane, for easily assumed reasons. A quick glance at the one he was handed revealed a header of 'testimonial' with golden borders. His name was scrawled neatly just below the heading, and the paper went on to congratulate him for surviving, basically, as well as giving him a reward in a sum of Monocoins. Ouma scoffed; as if they needed any more incentive to try and find the culprit apart from their own survival instincts.

"Well, you got it right! The culprit was Shirogane Tsumugi, the Ultimate Cosplayer!" Monokuma crowed for their attention, leaning forward in his seat. "You guys sure are lucky, huh?"

Angie's smile was stiff as she cocked her head. "Uh, I wouldn't call losing two classmates lucky."

"I would argue that this entire situation is unlucky." Shinguuji murmured, fingers pressed over his mouth. "However, I will concur that I do appreciate that we survived this class trial."

There was a quiet ripple of agreement as Shirogane looked down and shuffled her feet, followed by a lapse of silence. Amami cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow. "Speaking of survival, you never explained why you killed Yumeno, Shirogane."

As soon as the elephant in the room was addressed, everyone's eyes expectantly shot towards Shirogane, who was still looking downwards and considerably paler than usual. She smoothed her skirt, but didn't say anything when Iruma sighed. "C'mon, Plain Jane, just spill the beans before you go and die on us!"

"Please, Gonta needs to hear why you did it. Gonta needs to understand." The entomologist pleaded, looking very much like he was on the verge of tears. From what Ouma was aware of, Shirogane wasn't particularly close to anyone, but a classmate was still a classmate and it didn't take a genius to see that Gonta had a big heart.

She didn't reply. Ouma wasn't sure if that was because she was stalling, or because she genuinely didn't have any intention to answer, but he didn't care. _He_ was impatient, and curious about motivations, so he sighed and mustered up a look with as much sympathy as possible. "Look, if you don't explain yourself, then we'll never be able to forgive you."

_That_ got her attention.

"No, I know why you wouldn't forgive me. What I did was plainly despicable!" She glanced up at him, not quite hopeful but in a similar vein. "But if you could, I'd be… not happy. Very grateful, I think."

"No promises on that. You still killed Yumeno-san either way!" Chabashira huffed, jabbing a finger at her accusingly before softening. Maybe it was better the culprit was a girl; he didn't think she'd be so lenient otherwise. "But I won't be able to accept it at all if you don't explain it."

Shiroganed nodded slowly, fidgeting with her blazer as she avoided looking anyone directly in the eye. "There isn't much to say, really. I didn't think it through very much. I was just scared."

"Scared?" Kiibo phrased it as a question, even as understanding dawned on his face. "Scared of the time limit, you mean?"

"Well, you didn't have to kill her because of that." Momota interjected, eyebrows furrowed into a disapproving expression. "It's okay to be scared, but we could have figured something out! We could have escaped-"

"Could we?" Shirogane huffed, suddenly defensive as she glared at him, the complete opposite of her nervousness. "We wouldn't have been able to escape by ourselves. The only exit we found was impassable, and the closer we got to the time limit, the less likely it looked like someone was going to rescue us. We were _stuck_."

Akamatsu's eyes were guilty as she took a step towards her, but didn't dare to go any closer. "Shirogane-san…"

"No!" She shook her head as she cut Akamatsu off. With how fast she was talking, it was as if she wanted to get it all out before she lost her nerve. "I was scared, and I really didn't want to die. I have so many things that I wanted to do, y'know? Shows I haven't watched, cosplays I had been working on, things I needed to delete off my computer. And- and you're all lovely, but I'm not close to any of you and I've only known everyone for a few days so- so-"

"So you were willing to give up our lives in exchange for yours." Tojo finished, not unkindly as she nodded with a sigh. Shirogane nodded, ashamed. "While unfortunate, I understand why you'd think so." 

"I mean, I don't approve but I get it. I just don't understand why you had to target Yumeno-san." Chabashira murmured as she hugged herself, her eyes betraying some sort of desperation for an explanation, to why it had to be Yumeno of all people, as if there weren't any reasons to kill her. Love is blind, huh?

"You say that like any of us deserved it any more than Yumeno did." Hoshi's tone lacked anger even though his smile was bittersweet. Pity, perhaps. "If anything, I'd say we're all just a victim of circumstance."

Chabashira's face contorted with irritation. "Well-!"

"To be honest, I didn't plan to kill Yumeno-san specifically." Shirogane admitted, looking a bit sheepish for stopping Chabashira's impending rant, presumably about degenerates. "I was actually hiding out in the girls' bathroom to mentally prepare myself, you know? But then Yumeno-san came in and I knew that if I didn't do it impulsively, then I never would. So...I followed her back to the kitchen, grabbed a knife and did it. I- I started to freak out after she was dead, so I was messy cleaning up. I'm sorry, Chabashira-san." She looked downwards, her fingers twitching. "Angie-san, too. I know she meant a lot to the both of you. It was impulsive of me, and I really do regret it."

Angie's face grew disturbingly flat, though her eyes carried a deep sadness. Chabashira averted her eyes, clenching her hands into fists. Harukawa rolled her eyes. "Do you regret doing it, or just regret being caught?" It was too blunt for the current atmosphere - multiple people flinched and even Ouma himself winced behind the protection of his scarf. Akamatsu went as far as to hush her with a reproachful glance, but it didn't appear to have any effect on the girl. He wasn't surprised. 

"That aside, I'm assuming you were telling the truth when you said you weren't involved with the poison attempt, then?" Saihara muttered tentatively, raising his head enough to barely peer out from beneath his hat. "If it was an impulse kill, I doubt you knew about something that needed prior planning." 

"That's right." Shirogane smiled weakly, more than happy to move on, so it seemed. "I really was surprised when poison was brought up in the trial. I suppose I acccidentally ruined someone else's murder attempt." She laughed, a hollow sound as she curled a strand of hair around her finger. "It makes my motive for doing what I did even more useless, I know. I might have been fine if I had just waited but...it is what it is."

"So someone else really did try to kill Yumeno-san too?" Gonta whispered, and Ouma really didn't like the fact that he sounded so much like a kicked puppy, because it only made him being in this situation worse. 

"It would seem so." Shinguuji mused, before shuddering. "How truly terrifying, especially seeing as our attempted killer was much more planned. What would stop them from trying to murder someone else?"

The tension was palpable. As if being in a killing game wasn't bad enough, there was now confirmation at least one of their surviving classmates were willing to get their hands dirty. It had already felt dangerous, but this was even worse. 

"Well, nothing we can do about it, so we shouldn't waste time worrying, right?" Momota offered in his typical, blindly optimistic way. Based purely on the iffy looks on the others' faces, Ouma didn't think many agreed with him.

"While it's certainly a topic of concern, we can discuss that at a later time." Kiibo said, shifting from foot to foot in a somewhat anxious manner. He looked over at the convicted with a small frown. "Shirogane-san, is there anything more you wish to tell us?"

She blinked, as if surprised to be given the chance, but after a moment of thought she shook her head. "I don't think so. There's not much else I _could_ say. I'm just-"

"Great, because this is getting boring, and we have things to do!" Monokuma regrettably reminded them of his existence, groaning as he looked down upon them. "Seriously, it's so anti-climatic. Don't you wanna go out with a bang?"

His words sparked foreboding in his gut, but Akamatsu was the one who voiced it. "What?"

"Oh, of course." He crooned as the cubs grew restless, his red eye glowing with malice "It's the moment you've all been waiting for. Punishment time!"

You could tell when the class collectively processed this announcement by the matching looks of horror that dawned on all their faces. 

"It's time for the execution, you mean?" Amami corrected quietly, and while he wasn't as outwardly scared as some of the others, his posture showed that he was uneasy too. 

"N-No way, you were serious about that?!" Momota exclaimed, looking slightly frazzled himself, before narrowing his eyes and gritting his teeth. "No, you can't! We won't let you! Who knows what a freak like you would do to kill her?"

"Y-yeah!" Chabashira joined in, despite looking pale from the announcement. "Just because she killed Yumeno-san doesn't mean she deserves whatever you're gonna do!"

"Oh? I thought you of all people would _want_ to avenge poor Yumeno?" Monokuma mocked, and Chabashira instantly flinched even as she met him with a hard glare. "Anyway, rules are rules! Shirogane knew the risk she was running when she stabbed her, and now she has to deal with it! Geez, didn't you brats read the rulebook?!"

Ouma could see the harsh collection of glares being directed towards Monokuma, but nobody actively spoke out against him any further. Maybe it was because he had a point, and maybe it was because nobody was endeared enough to Shirogane to risk themselves to try and save her. 

"He's right, I did know." Shirogane breathed shakily, eyes sliding shut as she attempted to keep calm. "After- After doing something so horrible and selfish, I guess I deserve it. But it's plain funny to me, that trying to avoid death made me face it." Her voice warbled, and she quickly cleared her throat as she turned.

"Now then, let's get started!" Monokuma crowed, merely background static to Shirogane as she moved.

With trembling fingers, she took off two of the pins on her blazer and approached Angie and Chabashira with hurried strides. She held out one pin to each of them, eyes glazed as they hesitated. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." 

_"I've prepared a special punishment for the Ultimate Cosplayer, Shirogane Tsumugi!"_

She spoke in a whisper, but it was enough to spur Angie to accept the pin, with Chabashira following suit. Ouma wasn't sure what was on the pins, and he wasn't sure it was relevant. 

_"Let's give it everything we've got! It's...PUNISHMENT TIME!"_

Shirogane, against all odds, gave them all one last weak smile. 

"Forgive me."

* * *

_Shirogane Tsumugi has been found guilty. Time for the punishment!_

Nobody knew what to expect. Shirogane, despite her trembling, stood tall with a steeled expression of acceptance. For someone facing her death, he could respect her composure, at the very least. 

For a moment, it seemed like nothing would happen. And then a collar came out of seemingly nowhere, clamping around her neck and showing off the Monokuma face emblazoned on the front. Shirogane's hands shot up to the collar out of instinct, her previously appreciated composure slipping as panic flashed in her eyes. 

She tugged at it to relieve the strain on her neck when she was abruptly dragged backwards by the chain connected to the collar towards the wall. It opened up - which was somewhat surprising considering how seamless the entire room seemed, but hey, Ouma wasn't an expert on hidden passages or rooms or anything - to reveal a large rectangular area. 

As soon as Shirogane fully crossed the threshold, a glass wall slid smoothly into place where the courtroom wall once was, effectively trapping her in and the rest of them out. The scenery seemed to come into sharper focus as Shirogane collected herself with a brief stumble at one end of the newly revealed room; it appeared to be a standard convention hall, with bright lights beaming down against a fairly barren environment. Behind the cosplayer were five booths, lined up with merchandise for some vague but Monokuma-related show, and behind each was a Monokub. They were snickering as everyone's attention was attracted by a green light flickering on.

At the other end of the room was an open doorway, with an exit sign glowing brightly above it, beckoning. 

Even without being hopeful for a merciful execution, Ouma's heart plummeted. 

  
  


**FRANTIC FANDOM FRENZY**

**ULTIMATE COSPLAYER'S EXECUTION**

  
  


Perhaps it was her desperate will to live, but Shirogane bought the trick hook, line and sinker. That, or she thought there was nothing else for her to do. She instantly began running towards the exit, and thrilled that she had taken the bait, the Monokubs cackled from their places and raised their paws to reveal...darts?

( _Oh no.)_

They threw with startling accuracy, considering they had a moving target. The darts themselves didn't appear lethal, but that didn't stop the yelps and flinches from Shirogane as she was hit, her step faltering as the movement no doubt agitated the darts in her flesh. She continued to run anyway. If they weren't poisoned, they didn't seem to be much of a deterrent, especially because the cubs didn't throw many darts before they ran out.

Then again, the lack of darts seemed to be a bad thing as they triggered what Ouma could only classify as phase two of the execution. Seemingly out of nowhere, the hall began to swarm with a bustling crowd of faceless people, clamouring as they advanced towards Shirogane. She stumbled, visibly surprised by their appearance, but pressed forward with her face set in scared determination. 

In the background, some scuffling caught his attention. The bears were now standing on their booths, most likely to avoid the hoard of people. Green suddenly leapt from his booth to the neighbouring one, which happened to be Blue's, and pushed him cleanly off. Blue had no chance to collect himself as he fell into the crowd, and was almost immediately stepped on by the oncoming bodies.

_(What a tragedy. Such a shame. One less ursine hellion in the world. The cubs were visibly horrified and panicking, which was cathartic to watch, but the situation did show that Shirogane risked being trampled. Someone shuffled nervously behind him.)_

Shirogane was actually fairing decently in the crowd despite everything - that is to say, she was still miraculously upright. Unfortunately, her run had degraded to a fierce struggle through the bodies pulsing around her, the movement and push of the crowd only pushing the darts further into her skin. She bit back whimpers as some of the darts were tilted by passing people, thus tearing her wounds further open. 

To be quite honest, he was impressed when she managed to get herself across the whole room, even with the slight limp from someone stamping on her foot. The exit was tantalisingly close. She reached out a hand, stretching her fingers out as far as they could go and skimming the threshold-

_(Some of his classmates were cheering her on, encouraging and hopeful, so stupidly hopeful. He kept his gaze resolutely forward.)_

-only to be yanked back with a harsh tug that swept her off her feet.

The collar around her neck had never been released, though the chain had been lax enough to forget about it. Of course, just as Shirogane might have felt some hope, it crumbled with the tightening of the chain. 

Ironically, unfairly, sadistically; the crowd parted to allow her a direct path to the opposite wall of the area and Shirogane could do little more except grip the collar and look around with eyes crazed by a feral desperation to survive. The wall she was rushing towards, previously bare, suddenly shifted with a sharp click to allow large metal spikes to slide out into the open.

No, not just spikes.

They were giant _sewing needles._

Shirogane was being dragged back too quickly for anyone to really brace themself mentally. One moment she was struggling against the pull of the chain, clawing at the collar once again, and the next she was slamming into the wall, back first.

He supposed it was a small mercy for Shirogane - that she didn't have to see the sewing needles extend and rapidly approach her - but it didn't change the outcome. The needles pierced through her body like it was paper, and blood coated their tips and spurt onto the floor below. Her scream upon impact was quickly quietened by the needle that struck her square in the throat, translating into horrible gurgles as rivulets of blood dripped from the corners of her mouth. It was another small mercy that no needles managed to be situated directly at her head, though that was more so for the class than Shirogane. For Shirogane, it didn't matter, or if anything, it might have been better. Instant death by a giant needle to the brain might have been better than this torture, though a morbid part of Ouma mused that if Yumeno had to endure bleeding out, he supposed it was only fair. 

_(He stubbornly ignored the overwhelming urge to vomit, and the staggered gasps and sobs and screams from the sensitive people among their group. He wasn't surprised by their reactions. It was one thing to find a dead body, and another entirely to see someone brutally murdered in front of you. He was glad he had positioned himself right in front of the rest of the group when the execution started, if only so he didn't have to see their faces and trembling shoulders.)_

The fluorescent lights above the scene faded to black in tandem to the fading light of Shirogane's eyes.

* * *

Nobody spoke. After what they just witnessed, how could they? Monokuma filled the silence, waxing poetic about his poor dead son - Monokid was Blue's name, then. A bit late to be learning that now, seeing as he just died, but better late than never. 

"Looking at this from a positive light, at the very least, it is unlikely we'll need to worry about the poisoner attempting murder again." Shinguuji said, hesitant to speak as glass slid down and the courtroom wall returned into place. 

His hesitance was understandable, considering how Iruma immediately let out a half hysterical laugh. "How can you be that calm after seeing that?! What, are you a fucking necrophiliac or somethin'?" Her bravado melted slightly as she swallowed a gag. "God, talk about overkill. How many times over dead did she need to be?"

"It was certainly...brutal." Kiibo agreed, looking more disturbed than his tone betrayed. Ouma noticed that even with the execution grounds hidden from view once more, his eyes lingered on that section of wall. 

"Why are you doing this? Why go this far? What do you want from us?!" Akamatsu shouted at Monokuma, ignoring her apparent lightheadedness and damp eyes to direct her attention towards him.

"I am also curious." Tojo nodded, a dark anger in her eyes. "Surely, even as a mechanical bear, you are aware that human lives are precious things?" He pretended he didn't see Hoshi look away at her question.

Monokuma giggled, leaning forward. "Of course I know that! Why else do you think it's so fun to end it?"

Ouma grimaced as Chabashira let out a choked sound of disbelief, voice scratchy from screaming and tear tracks running down her cheeks. "You- You're sick! You're the worst! How can you just- just _say_ that?!" Despite her disdain towards Shirogane before her death, she was cradling the pin she gave her close to her chest. 

"Crazy, more like." Hoshi murmured, pushing his hands into his pockets and hunching into himself.

"As for why- well, why do anything?" Monokuma continued as if nobody had injected, his half-grin stretching wider. "It's entertaining to see you all struggle with despair! It warms my lack of a heart and all that. There doesn't need to be any more reason than that, does there?"

"There does when you're putting people's _lives_ on the line!" Momota barked, and though he didn't continue, it was very clear with the ferocity of his glare that he would have threatened physical violence if it had been plausible. As it were, with the bear high on his seat, he simmered in frustration. 

"Don't get so worked up!" Monokuma laughed, which only succeeded in making Momota more worked up. "Besides, you have better things to worry about besides my intentions. Like watching your back! After all, you never know who'll be the next killer!"

Angie wore an emotionless smile, folding her arms behind her back. "You say that like we're going to have another murder, when that will not be the case. Atua says so, after all!"

"Yeah! Atua or not, there's no way this'll happen again!" Momota grinned, and if he was legitimately driven by that sentiment, then he had to admit that he was impressed by his ability to look on the bright side.

Monokuma didn't seem too impressed by this show of defiance. "Just what a future murderer would say!" He tilted his head, tapping his muzzle with a paw. "But hey, now that the game's finally begun, what makes you think it'll stop so easily?"

"Because if you can force someone to kill from the fear of a time limit, and another to attempt it, then what makes us think that you can't figure out a way to force someone else into a corner, right?" Amami murmured, looking more high strung than Ouma had ever seen him. It was a horrible image. 

"Exactly!" The bear returned to lounging in his seat, letting out a sigh. "Well, you've gotta process this, I know. Do your best to graduate, and good luck! The fun has only just begun, after all!" 

With a squealing chuckle, he left. The cubs followed him, their conversation echoing around the room even once they were gone. And then, they were all alone.

Akamatsu slowly sunk to her knees, as if she had the energy sapped out of her. Chabashira followed her example, most likely drained from the emotional strain, and then Gonta, and Angie, until they were all on the floor. Some of them were on their knees, some of them were sat cross legged or with their legs stretched out in front of them, but no matter how, they all sat together in the aftermath of what had just happened.

They were all exhausted. 

"All this time, I kept preaching about working together and never giving up, and I didn't even notice that someone already had." Akamatsu finally murmured, having shifted to sitting with her legs drawn to her chest.

Gonta sniffled, rubbing at his wet cheeks. He had only just managed to stop crying, but Ouma had a feeling his shaking wouldn't stop for a while. "Don't blame yourself, Akamatsu-san. It wasn't your fault! You helped Gonta feel less scared, at least." 

"Besides, you could say the same thing about everyone else." Harukawa huffed, fidgeting with her sleeves. "Nobody else seemed to realise, either."

"Not quite." Tojo let out a long sigh, inclining her head as she adjusted her skirts, spread out around her on the ground. "While this outcome was...as favourable as it could be, I still have to question why Saihara-kun did not stop Shirogane-san if he witnessed her following Yumeno-san."

Saihara looked up from where he appeared to be picking at his nails, momentarily alarmed at his name being brought up. "I may have seen Shirogane-san, but at the time, I had no idea that she was planning to kill someone. There was no reason for me to bother her just for coming out of the bathroom after Yumeno-san."

And because Ouma couldn't help but make a habit of rubbing salt into wounds, he raised an eyebrow. "Cool, that makes sense, but what about in the trial? You clearly already knew at that point, but you refused to tell us and drew it out. And it's not like you looked like you were enjoying being there either!"

Saihara ducked his head, hand coming up to brush the brim of his hat before rubbing his nose. "Ah, well, I didn't want to say it because of, um, personal reasons."

"'Personal reasons'?" Iruma repeated with a scoff, squinting one eye in shock. "What's more personal than all our lives, _yours fuckin' included_?"

"If you were keeping that from us," Harukawa muttered darkly, radiating distrust. "then is there anything else? Do you know who the attempted poisoner was?"

Admittedly, it was a good question, but considering the startled look on Saihara's face, it had been wasted. "What? N-No-"

"Does it truly matter who placed the poison?" Shinguuji brushed some hair out of his face, looking more fed up than anything else. "It didn't work, and like I said earlier, I find it unlikely that they will attempt anything again after... _that_ display." He curled his lip in a show of disgust. 

"If people are desperate, they're willing to do anything." Hoshi pointed out, pulling a box of candy cigarettes from his pocket. Ouma wondered if they grounded him or something. "We can't dismiss the fact someone here tried to kill someone on the account that it's unlikely they'll try again. Though I guess you could also say that singling someone out is useless, considering all of us have the ability to get to that point."

A beat of silence, which Hoshi spent fishing a cigarette from the pack and running his fingers along its surface as he pocketed the box. Amami let out an awkward laugh, stretching his arms above his head. "We may need to discuss all that at some point, but I think now we should rest. I'm sure we're all exhausted after everything that happened, and I don't think anything is going to happen so soon after the trial." His smile was soft, brotherly like he was trying to coax a younger sibling to bed, even though the heaviness of something indescribable had yet to fade from his eyes. 

Gonta, unsurprisingly, was extremely receptive to this tactic, smiling lightly. "Gonta thinks that's a good idea. Gonta is very tired."

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing." Ouma sighed melodramatically, hauling himself to his feet and stretching his arms above him, before they fell folded behind his head. "I mean, no offense, but I'm pretty sure sitting in this creepy courtroom is making me more depressed by the second. Let me see the sun through the cage to heal my mood!"

"Chipper, aren't you?" Hoshi snorted, in a way that might be seen as amused. In a situation like this though, any distraction was appreciated. 

"Well, whatever. I'm not staying here any longer either." Harukawa huffed as she got to her feet herself and began to stride over to the elevator, her focus making it obvious that if anyone tried to stop her, they'd be ignored. Silently, Saihara did the same, trailing after her like a shadow. 

"Mhm, mhm, Atua does not like the atmosphere of this place either." Angie reasoned with a pinched brow, readjusting her cardigan once she got up. She skipped over to the elevator, but the movement was lacking in energy.

Shinguuji watched her leave, and once she got out of earshot, murmured lowly. "Despite her front, I'm aware that grief reveals itself differently in everyone. Since I've already spoken to her during the investigation, I'll do my best to comfort her today." And with that, he went to catch up with Angie without another word.

"Oh, that's a good idea." Akamatsu said back, hushed, before her gaze slid over to Chabashira, sitting stubbornly away from any boys. "Speaking of grief, are you feeling alright, Chabashira-san? I know this hit you pretty hard."

Chabashira hesitated, eyeing the boys still seated, as if nervous to share her vulnerability in front of them. Eventually, she sighed. "I mean, I guess I'm okay? I felt better about...Yumeno dying when I realised I had the chance to avenge her, but now it all feels...wrong." She shook her head, getting up with a small smile. "I need some time to process this, I think! I dunno if I'll feel any better but…"

She trailed off, and nobody attempted to push her; certainly not any of the boys. With nothing else to discuss and numbers already lowered with the people who left for the elevator, the remaining students went to meet them there.

As Ouma brushed the dust off his coat, he felt a presence settle beside him. Despite being distracted, he already had a decent guess as to who it was even before they spoke. " _Was_ your school shop account a lie?"

Kiibo. The question was casual, most likely because it didn't matter much now, but certainly suspicious.

He straightened, glancing over at the robot with a smile, eyes glittering. Something about seeing Kiibo in front of him, the both of them still alive (or functioning, in Kiibo's case) cemented the situation for him, and a warm relief flooded his chest. _They were alive._ It didn't completely override the sour knot in his stomach from seeing both a dead and dying body in less than 12 hours, but it helped, a little. Kiibo's expression was pinched with curiosity, and he was tugging at the fingertips of his gloves. Ouma took his wrist, stilling the motion, and began to tug him towards the elevator.

"Let's get out of here, m'kay, Kiiboy?" He said sweetly, as if he hadn't asked a question.

Kiibo took the hint, and didn't ask again, despite his small pout. Instead, he let Ouma lead him away from the circle of podiums and those hidden execution grounds.

* * *

"Are they okay?"

"Yeah, I think so. I just found them asleep in the library."

"The library?"

"I guess they wanted to distract themself from...everything with a book."

"That makes sense. Do you need any help?"

"No, I'm alright. I found their dorm key in their pocket, so I'll drop them off in their dorm."

"You don't think they'll be mad about you breaking into their room?"

"Maybe, but it's better to sleep in a bed than against a bookshelf."

"It _is_ a bit weird that there are no tables there."

"Tell me about it."

"Well, if you're sure about it. Make sure you don't drop them."

They laughed.

"I won't!"

* * *

**14 STUDENTS REMAINING**

* * *

_The trust of the innocent is the liar’s most useful tool. - Stephen King_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh? What's that? A POV that isn't Ouma?
> 
> Yep! It's not going to happen very often, but occasionally there will be an anonymous POV. As the name suggests, I do my best to write it as flatly as possible, so it could really be anyone (changing all pronouns to neutral, mostly dialogue, removing any obvious speech patterns the characters may have). It's a mystery!
> 
> And with that, Chapter 1 is complete!! I added it after I originally published the prologue, but I decided to mark the end of each chapter with a quote regarding leadership or deception (with the prologue being an odd one out and having a survival-based quote!!).
> 
> Anyway, it's that time again! I need help figuring out who Ouma spends Chapter 2 ftes with. To make it easier for me to tally the votes, I have made the executive decision to make a poll, which you can vote on here: https://forms.gle/vn5P96QawJ9WNX7L6
> 
> Daily life chapters tend to take longer for me to write (because they typically have higher word counts than the deadly life chapters) so I probably won't be able to abide by the every weekend schedule I've apparently (unintentionally) had for the past few chapters, but who knows!! Only time and my writing stamina will tell.
> 
> Also happy birthday Ouma!! Clearly the best birthday present is witnessing a classmate's execution and getting the subsequent trauma from seeing someone esentially tortured to death in front of you <3
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I'll see you next chapter!


	9. 2.1 : (Un)Locked Doors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the mess that was yesterday, what was esentially a scavenger hunt was not exactly what Ouma had in mind, but it was certainly better than the imagined alternative.

**Chapter Two : Trust Lies on a Spectrum**

* * *

When the morning announcement sounded, Ouma almost didn't get out of bed. He seriously considered skipping the usual breakfast meeting altogether, and the longer he thought about it, the more appealing not moving sounded. 

He hadn't slept well last night - not that he was surprised. Considering the events of yesterday, and his preexisting sleep troubles, it was practically inevitable. He hadn't felt like trying to hang out with anyone to tire himself out, even though he was sure Kiibo was awake in the room beside him. After everything, he felt more comfortable simmering in his thoughts alone. 

It wasn't like he didn't get  _ any  _ sleep. Rather, any sleep he did get felt like it didn't register, because he woke up just as exhausted as he was before. 

Despite the temptation though, in the end he dragged himself into the bathroom to get ready, knowing that lying in bed wouldn't help him feel any more rejuvenated. It was just going to be one of those days. At the very least, he was confident in his ability to act like he wasn't running on what felt like no sleep. 

This was a good decision, because he barely finished getting ready when the intercom sounded, an obnoxious ringing echoing through the dorm. He hesitated in answering as he tied his scarf around his neck, making sure it was comfortable and settled against his chin as he grabbed his key from the desk and unlocked the door. 

Kiibo greeted him on the other side, with a bright smile that seemed out of place after yesterday. "Good morning, Ouma-kun. I thought I'd come here to collect you for breakfast, so we can walk to the dining hall together."

"For breakfast you can't eat?" Ouma remarked with a light smirk, leaning against the doorframe. It was unnecessary and held no weight, but that was what he got for seeking him out. Kiibo rolled his eyes and muttered something about robophobia, but didn't seem too upset. "Well, what's the hold up, Kiiboy? My subjects are waiting!"

Kiibo blinked, not reacting for a moment as he figured out what he was talking out, before hastily stepping away from the doorway to give him room to exit. Ouma stepped out, closing and locking the door behind him. "I thought you didn't want to be known as the Ultimate Supreme Leader?" The robot asked belatedly as he pocketed his key, turning to glance at him. He noticed that Kiibo's gaze was averted, returning his earlier favour at pretending not to know where his dorm key was kept. 

Ouma scoffed, folding his arms behind his back and beginning to walk, confident that Kiibo would fall into step. "Could you be any louder?" He teased, his heart skipping a beat even though a glance around the building as he walked down the stairs confirmed that nobody was in earshot. 

Kiibo let out a small gasp, covering his mouth with one hand as he recognised the mistake. "Sorry! Sorry!"

"Whatever." He waved a hand dismissively, pushing open the front door and being polite enough to hold it open for Kiibo, who nodded in polite acknowledgement. "Just because I'm lying about it doesn't change the truth, that's all. I still see you all as my subordinates." 

"Is that true?" Kiibo almost sounded amused, and Ouma couldn't help but let out another, more dramatic scoff.

" _ Obviously. _ " He grinned over his shoulder at him, sickeningly sweet. "You know I've been helping everyone out, and I'm not doing that out of the goodness of my own heart. You're all my responsibility!"

Kiibo hummed with a shake of his head, furrowing his brows. "If you say so. Just be sure not to overwhelm yourself with your supposed responsibility, okay?" The concern was genuine, but came off as unknowingly patronising.

"Oh please, it's literally my entire talent." Ouma skipped down the side path, towards the dining hall patio, choosing to forgo the long winded indoor alternative. "I wouldn't be a good leader if I was easily overwhelmed."

"I suppose that makes sense." Ouma was aware of the glance in his direction that made it feel like Kiibo didn't quite believe him, but he didn't care to point it out. If anything, he'd just prove him wrong with how brilliantly he'll handle this shitty situation going forward.

The dining hall was full of mundane chatter, nothing substantial enough for him to try and eavesdrop on. He took a seat next to Amami again, and Kiibo slipped into the seat beside him. Amami wasn't talking to Shinguuji this morning, or anyone else for that matter, instead eating quietly with an unfocused stare that almost unnerved him. 

"Goood morning, Amami-chan!" Ouma called with a half smile, leaning into his personal space in the attempt to provoke a reaction. 

The other looked up quickly at the call and set down his spoon, before easing a gentle smile onto his face, as if he hadn't just been brooding. "Ouma, hey. Did you sleep okay last night?"

He bit down a pout, because something was  _ weird _ and he didn't know what. Maybe the events of yesterday hit Amami harder than he initially thought. "Yeah, I mean, I was pretty exhausted, so it was one of those as soon as my head hit the pillows scenarios, you get me?" He said with a smile instead of voicing any concern, like an honest person might do. "What about you? Got enough sleep?"

Amami sucked in a breath through his teeth, averting his gaze. "It was a bit of a rough night, but I guess that's to be expected, right?" He let out a light laugh, lacking in any real humour, before his gaze lowered back to his food. 

Ouma leaned back, noting that Amami seemed less receptive to his usual bullshit, and was subsequently distracted by Tojo as she set a bowl of porridge in front of him. He muttered his thanks as he picked up his spoon, stirring the porridge before carefully checking the temperature. He looked up to survey the room once more, hiding a wince at the two empty chairs. Nobody was talking about it, most likely wanting to forget it ever happened, but there were too many reminders around here to truly forget the two deaths that they had seen. However, what was curious was that a  _ third _ chair was empty. He frowned quietly; a quick headcount revealed that Saihara was the missing person. It wasn't inherently suspicious, because he could have easily overslept or chosen not to come (there wasn't any  _ real _ obligation to attend breakfast, and he didn't seem to eat when he did) but after yesterday, he couldn't help feeling uneasy.

Still, there wasn't much point in dwelling on that unease, so he tuned into Kiibo's conversation with Gonta, who was on the robot's other side and talking passionately about something surely related to bugs. Kiibo seemed enthralled, resting a finger against his chin in thought. "How interesting - are you certain, though? How good is your eyesight?"

Ouma raised an eyebrow in curiosity, tugging his scarf down to rest at his collarbone as he began to eat. Gonta's passion seemed to dwindle, and he looked increasingly nervous as he fiddled with his cup. "Ah, Gonta's eyesight is 20/0.625, but he could have made a mistake, right? It's very strange there are no bugs here, especially because it's such a good place for them but…"

"What are you talking about?" Ouma interrupted as he idly wiped at the corner of his mouth, because he felt like he was missing a vital piece of information here.

It was extremely convenient that this conversation was occurring between two of the least private people in the group, because Gonta answered without a shred of hesitation. "Oh, Ouma-kun! Gonta was telling Kiibo-kun that he thought he finally saw a bug in the courtyard earlier. But now he thinks he might have made a mistake, because he couldn't find the bug again and hasn't seen any more." 

He almost envied that childish naivete, with simple priorities like finding bugs, not that he'd admit it to anyone, least of all himself. He hummed, gaze falling to his porridge again. "Maybe you were just  _ really _ eager to find some bugs, so you hallucinated them or something? They're tiny, so it wouldn't be that hard."

"Oh, that's a good point! You're very smart." Gonta lit up like he had just given him the meaning of life itself, and Ouma hid his smug smile with another spoonful of porridge. 

"I suppose that does make more sense than Gonta-kun making a mistake, seeing as he has such good eyesight." Kiibo murmured thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. Ouma zoned out as Kiibo and Gonta went on to discuss things he wasn't interested in, filing the topic of that little conversation away for later review. 

He had just finished his food when the indoor entrance opened, revealing their missing classmate. Saihara looked the same as always, except for maybe a tighter grip on the door handle. The conversation softened at the intrusion, and Tojo got to her feet, brushing down her skirt. "Good morning, Saihara-kun. Take a seat, I'll get you a bowl of porridge."

"No, no, don't worry about it. I didn't come for breakfast." He waved a hand, stepping inside just enough for the door to close but not moving in any further. Quieter, he hesitantly added. "I, uh, just wanted to make sure everyone was alright after the deaths yesterday."

The quiet conversation dwindled into silence. It was as if the thread that had been holding that mask of normalcy together snapped with his words, as the atmosphere suddenly felt colder. It didn't bother Ouma, who hadn't been trying to kid himself about the events of yesterday and had been equal parts amused and confused by the feigned ignorance from everyone else. It did, however, seem to bother the majority at the table, if the shift in atmosphere equated to anything. From the corner of his eye, he watched Chabashira stiffen.

"You ever heard of fuckin' subtlty, dickhead?" Iruma finally snapped as she crossed her arms, though the lack of a personalised nickname made it more obvious that she had been shaken by the bluntness of his statement. 

"You could have phrased it a little gentler, Saihara-kun." Akamatsu agreed, not unkindly, with a thin smile of understanding that didn't quite reach her eyes. She carefully lowered her cup from where she had been holding it midair. 

Saihara leaned back against the closed door, tugging his hat lower. "Ah, I'm- I'm sorry." He appeared to be genuinely remorseful, and though Ouma wasn't sure, he had a feeling the boy had paled. He mumbled something quiet enough to be indecipherable, his apologetic expression dissolving into something stern, borderline upset.

"I dunno if an apology was necessary." Hoshi said with a raised eyebrow, leaning back in his seat with a hint of skepticism. "It may have been blunt, but there's no point in hiding the obvious. Didn't we say that we'd talk about it yesterday?"

"Well, yes, I suppose that's true." Angie mused with a small pout, pressing a finger to her cheek. She appeared to be mostly recovered from her grief; or more likely, she internalised her feelings to keep up her charade. She smiled, the brightness of the gesture not quite matching her eyes. "But we can do that later, can't we? Right now, we should just relax. That's what Atua says!" 

Momota let out a hum of agreement, straightening up from where he had been leaning over his bowl to eat. "Yeah, we're not in any immediate danger anymore. Shouldn't we just, you know, chill for now?" Despite his grin, his tone didn't exude confidence and bravado like it usually did, as if he was uncertain too. What  _ did _ you do when two people died and you had no certainty on what was going to happen next?

Harukawa gave a wry snort from beside him, not unlike Ouma's own internal reaction, even as she continued to pick at the remainder of her food with disinterest. "And what are we supposed to do? Wait until Monokuma drops something horrible on us again and not talk about this then either, because everyone will be too busy panicking over that development?"

Momota argued back weakly, denying her prediction even though everyone in the room knew that the uncomfortable prospect was realistically what would happen. After all, they had put off an important discussion before, just two days prior, and look at where it left them.

There was a momentary lapse in conversation, that was promptly broken by Gonta's soft, fragile whisper. "Gonta knows that it's important to talk about, and that it might be helpful, but he's...scared to think about it." About the two girls that died, one right in front of them. About the mystery attempted murderer that was still lurking among them. About the fact that they all had the ability to kill, as Hoshi kept reminding them. 

About the killing game, and their lack of memories on how they got here, and the fact that not everyone was being open, him included, and basically Ouma could take a decent guess as to why the idea of talking frightened Gonta.

"Be that as it may, those are all emotional reasons to avoid discussion." Shinguuji sighed, running a hand through his hair in a way that made him look stressed - though quite honestly, Ouma would be more impressed if he  _ wasn't _ stressed. As much as he acted like it, he didn't think he was truly apathetic. "If we are being objective, it would be in our best interest to explore all our worries and concerns as soon as possible, so that nothing can be held over us." The anthropologist's words catered to Ouma's rationality which was, admittedly, his most valued asset. Kiibo wore a solemn expression beside him, and nodded along in a sluggish motion that suggested he really didn't want to agree. Then again, this was the same Kiibo that had turned up to his door with a bright smile like they hadn't watched someone die a violent death less than a day prior, so he shouldn't be surprised by the hesitance. 

"Yeah, talking is important, but-!" Chabashira suddenly burst, having shaken off her stiffness and sounding livelier than he had expected to her. Her determination wavered as she pushed her empty bowl away, continuing in a quieter tone. "But- but it feels like it's too soon."

Hoshi glanced at her with something akin to pity in his expression, and he could almost  _ feel _ Chabashira bristling in his peripheral. "But it's like Harukawa said. We don't know how much time we have to waste on processing all this. We haven't been here for that long, and already so much has happened. Who's to say something won't happen before the day is up?"

"Well, people grieve in different ways, y'know." Ouma sighed, leaning back and slinging an arm over the back of the chair, burrowing his lower face into his scarf. The back and forth was getting them nowhere, and he was fed up of listening to it. "The most obvious compromise here is that we have the discussion with everyone who's willing now, and then repeat the discussion with everyone when you all calm down." He clicked his tongue, tilting his head. "It's super  _ annoying _ , but it would probably be immoral or something to force everyone to talk now."

This must not have been as brilliant of a compromise as he thought, because Momota huffed, rubbing the back of his neck. "C'mon man, it's like you said. That would be a hassle. It'd be easier to cheer everyone up together and then talk." He dropped his hand, cracking a half smile. "Besides, the bears haven't even shown up this morning-"

_ "Finally!" _

It was unsurprising that Monokuma chose that moment to appear in the middle of the room, to rob them of any scrap of hope, but his annoyed expression was a pleasant surprise. Whether it boded well for them or not, Ouma appreciated any inconvenience that plagued him. "Geez, you kids sure know how to talk, don't ya?" Monokuma grumbled, glaring at them with something dangerous in his red eye. "I've been waiting ten minutes for a cue!"

"I'm shocked that you chose to allow us to finish our conversation instead of simply interrupting it, as that seems like something you would likely do." Tojo said disdainfully, eyeing the bear with a mixture of disgust and unease, which matched the general reactions of the group. 

"More importantly, what do you want now?" Amami asked sternly with his arms folded; Ouma briefly noticed that he had straightened, and though he hadn't caught the change, he seemed tenser than before.

"Why'd you assume I'm here because I want something?" Monokuma tilted his head, in an exaggeration of false confusion. It seemed that as soon as he was reminded why he was here, he had instantly cheered up, because that taunting aura had returned full force. "No, no, I just figured I'd give you all a prize for getting through the trial!"

"A prize?" Kiibo echoed warily with visible apprehension, and while Ouma understood the feeling, he felt more resigned. After all, he wasn't going to turn down a  _ prize  _ if they were being handed out, for curiosity's sake if nothing else. As if summoned by the acknowledgement (and by that, he meant that he had a feeling they were literally waiting for the opportunity), the Monokubs appeared from their hidden corner, one member shorter than usual. That, however, was no surprise.

What  _ was  _ surprising was their behaviour as Red squeaked. "Y-Yeah! We've got'em right- right here!" They all appeared to be periodically shooting nervous glances at Monodam, as Ouma realised he had been called after yesterday's trial. There seemed to have been a dynamic shift after Monodam's second-hand murder of their brother. He was aware of some discussion between the bears, coupled with a few offhand remarks from his classmates, about this change, but frankly didn't care enough to pay much attention. What he really wanted was to get on with whatever these prizes were and get these bears out of his face, but he had already realised that they operated on doing what was least wanted of them at all times, so he didn't bother asking.

They settled after a few minutes of useless chattering, Yellow clearing his throat as the cubs produced a reusable fabric shopping bag out of nowhere. "Anyway, we're gonna give out the prizes youse all been waitin' for."

The four rummaged around before each picking something up and holding it up to show it off. The trinkets didn't appear to have anything in common wih each other. "Listen up! Here are the fantastic, freaky prizes we've got for youse!" Yellow picked up where he left the announcement off. "A Dragon Gem, an Ocarina, a Stone Carving and a Hexagonal Crank from some zombie game!" The names somehow made the items make even less sense. "Lucky for all of youse, these prizes come in a bundle."

"Bravo! Bravo!" Red cheered as he put down what he was holding and began to clap. "What a great bunch of random junk!"

Pink followed suit, cheering as well. "I'm not sure why these are your prizes, but they're wonderful, aren't they?" She admitted quietly, as the other two put the rest of the prizes away. 

"Hold on a damn second, what are we supposed to do with all this bullshit?" Iruma shouted with a hand up to draw attention to herself, looking mildly annoyed as she leaned back against her chair. 

Monokuma giggled, scratching the back of his head. "Honestly, I have no clue. If there's a way to use them for something, I dunno what it is." That was blatant lie, but Ouma had a feeling everyone knew that. "Either way, you have the junk all to yourselves now, so you can do whatever you want with it. Have fun!"

He scurried away before anyone could question him further. The Monokubs followed shortly after a quick round of bickering, leaving the bag of rewards sitting on the floor. Tojo slowly got up, going over to retrieve it after a moment of hesitation. "What is it that we want to do with these things?"

"I dunno. What do you think Monokuma was hinting at, about the way to use them?" Hoshi raised an eyebrow, staring at the bag with a thoughtful expression. 

"There are a lot of mysterious things around the school that are there for seemingly no reason, right?" Amami leaned his chin against his palm, eyes scanning the group as he spoke. The position still felt unnaturally stiff for him. "Maybe we can use the stuff on them? I'm not sure what would happen, but it might be worth a shot."

"It's as good a plan as any, and certainly better than sitting here idly." Shinuuji sighed, before nodding as he folded his hands on top of the table. "But who, pray tell, should safekeep the items if we are all attempting to find said mysterious things?"

Gonta hummed thoughtfully, tapping his chin. "Maybe Saihara-kun? He is the Ultimate Detective."

"No." Harukawa said, an immediate response. "After the trial yesterday, I wouldn't trust him with anything that important." It was harsh, and according to the quick glances his classmates were exchanging, they thought so too, but it was also understandable. 

"C'mon, Harukawa, at least give him a chance." Momota suggested quietly, leaning against the table with his forearms and getting a glare in response, as if daring him to continue. 

"No, it's okay." Saihara said softly from his place, leaning against the door. He pushed off it, slipping his hands into the pockets of his trench coat. "I'm not interested in a scavenger hunt, at the moment." And then he left the dining hall, without any fanfare or goodbye. 

Ouma watched him leave, and once he was certain nobody had any intention of commenting on that move, he spoke up. "I can take the junk, if you want. I used to safekeep things for the kids all the time." It wasn't a lie, except for the fact that the people in his organization were mostly his age or older. 

Still, his stunning resume must have been convincing, because nobody immediately spoke out against him. The only opposition came from Iruma, several seconds late as she scoffed. "Yeah, okay, but what if we need the junk?"

He stared her down until he saw her begin to squirm, hoping to convey how stupid that question was. "Then you come and find me, idiot. Don't you know how to do basic problem solving?" She spluttered but was unable to find a retort.

"Well then, I suppose everything is settled." Kiibo smiled as Ouma was handed the bag of prizes from Tojo. He set it on his lap, absentmindedly looking inside to see the trinkets closer. 

"Guess so!" Angie chirped, and with that, the conversation seemed to be over. Some of the others began to filter out of the dining hall, and Tojo began collecting the dishes. Ouma huffed, getting up from his seat and holding the bag in one hand.

"Ouma-kun?"

Slightly surprised, he turned to Akamatsu, who had left her seat to come talk to him, apparently. He smiled, raising his eyebrows to exaggerate his surprise. "What can I do for you, Akamatsu-chan?"

She rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless, determination in her eyes. "I think I know where one of those things might work."

And Ouma was pretty sure he knew it too, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he raised an eyebrow and made a shooing motion. "Well, what are you waiting for? Lead the way!"

He knew that putting their conversation off again, letting everyone get swept up in this new task and forget about it, was ultimately a bad idea. The last time they put off a conversation, they didn't get another opportunity to have it on account of tragedy striking. 

But Ouma had always been partial to lies, so why should he bother people who wanted to indulge in denial?

* * *

Akamatsu led him to the second floor, towards the upper classrooms and, more importantly, towards the mural opposite them. It was the most obvious solution out of all their little trinkets, so he wasn't surprised in the slightest to find Shinguuji standing in the center of the hall, scrutinising the opposite wall. The anthropologist glanced over as they emerged from around the corner, offering a slim smile. "I see the two of you had a similar idea as I did."

"Yeah! The mural looks incomplete, and it matches the aesthetic of it, so it makes the most sense." Akamatsu said, cheerful as ever as she took a moment to look over the art in appreciation. "I like to think something will happen when we complete it, but if not, at the very least it'll look lovely."

"What d'you think is gonna happen anyway?" Ouma asked - an idle question to keep the conversation going as opposed to anything that held any genuine curiosity - as he reached into the bag and retrieved the stone rose. He pulled it out, gazing at it for a long moment. It was a rose at the peak of bloom, petals unfurled to take up his entire palm. 

"Perhaps the completion of this piece will trigger a mechanism of some sort?" Shinguuji offered with a raise of an eyebrow, and though his sharp eye tracked Ouma as he moved towards the gap in the mural, he didn't move from his spot.

Akamatsu clasped her hands together, letting out a small gasp. "Oh, that makes sense!" She smiled as she followed Ouma, peering at the gap as if trying to find any indication of aforementioned mechanism as he slung a bag over his shoulder. "Well, we won't know until we try."

He hummed with a nod, and because he didn't see much point in stalling, he carefully slotted the stone rose into the gap, completely unsurprised when it fit perfectly. He took a step back as he waited for something to happen, and then stumbled a few more when a rumbling began to emanate from the wall, narrowly missing bumping into Akamatsu. His fringe falling into his face conveniently hid his widened eyes as the mural began to develop a spider web of cracks stemming from the inserted stone rose. The rumbling increased in volume until it finally burst into a shower of rubble and dust, and Ouma was quick to hold his scarf up to his nose and mouth in an attempt to block out the particles. It worked for the most part, and he was a suitable level of smug when he heard twin coughs behind him as they waited for everything to settle.

When the dust cleared, it revealed a rather lackluster wall, that was situated directly behind where the mural previously stood. The rubble lay scattered in front of it, but helpfully left a path clear leading towards the single door. It was surrounded by black panelling with graphics of grey musical notes, the section lined by pine framing to separate it from the bland wall. The door itself was black too with a silver handle; the upper half adorned a simple image of an empty bar with a treble clef to the left, while the lower half of the door descended into white, patterned like the keys on a piano. 

"What a shame, to destroy such a beautiful piece of art." Shinguuji sighed, as if they hadn't discovered a new room behind said piece of art, gazing forlornly at the remains. "I wonder if these pieces encapsulate even a fraction of the beauty of the original?"

He moved towards one of the smaller pieces of rubble and bent down to carefully pick it up, inspecting it himself. Ouma whistled, following the seemingly predestined path towards the door and stopping a few metres away. "Looks like a research lab! Y'know, like the one Iruma-chan has." He briefly wondered what his lab looked like, remembered the key in his drawer, but suppressed that train of thought quickly. It was too risky, it was unimportant and he had other things to focus on.

"I thought it was just a music room or something, but you might be onto something. If it is a research lab, though, it must be mine, right?" Akamatsu phrased it as a question even though the answer was glaringly obvious, in the same way her talent was glaringly obvious from her outfit. Despite her clear attempts to hide it, excitement peeked through her level tone, and he understood why. While the circumstances were abysmal, everyone must be intrigued by the prospect of getting a space for themselves, tailored to their talents.

Ouma could think of several derisive replies off the top of his head, but he chose none of them. Instead, he decided to be kinder than that, stepping aside with a playful grin and a bow of the head, gesturing to the door with a flourish. "Well, if that's the case, then I think it's only fair that you should have the honour of entering first."

She let out a light laugh at his dramatics and walked towards the door. Contrast to her thinly veiled interest, she hesitated with her hand on the handle, which was a reaction Ouma could appreciate. With the circumstance, there was a slim possibility of it being a death trap. However, Akamatsu's curiosity must have won out, because she steeled herself and opened the door after a long moment. He padded after her as she stepped inside, rest assured that it was safe to do so, and heard Shinguuji put down the mural piece before following. 

The first thing he noted was that the room looked warm. Lived in. It was the atmosphere created by the mustard yellow walls, paired with the three large windows opposite the entrance, lined with elegant velvet curtains. Amber sunlight streamed through the panes, revealing specks of dust twirling through the air and falling onto the centerpiece of the room like a spotlight. Said centerpiece was an elevated platform with red carpeting, displaying a sleek grand piano. It appeared to be the newest addition to the room, or at least, the most well kept. 

The wall they entered through was lined with an abundance of shelves, with only the door itself leaving a section of it bare. These shelves seemed to house hundreds of CDs, and as his gaze wandered, he quickly noticed that the wall adjacent to it had a selection of players set atop a wooden cupboard. Above that stood a chalkboard, which was unusually archaic when in comparison to the LED screens of the classrooms but lent itself well to the aesthetic of the lab. In the corner of the ceiling was a large speaker, and a quick spin showed that each corner had a speaker of its own, identical in design. He dutifully ignored the familiar monitor that hung on the same wall, on the basis that he didn't care to investigate what he had already seen a dozen times, and instead turned his eyes to the mess around the piano with a hint of amusement. It was like the piano was the eye of a hurricane; if the hurricane consisted of several music stands and an undetermined amount of sheets of papers, all scattered around the room. Lived in, indeed. 

"I was kind of expecting the room to be a bit neater than this. I mean, to get this kind of mess, someone had to have purposefully thrown these papers in the air." Akamatsu tutted as she moved to pick up the closest piece of paper. Ouma rocked up onto his tiptoes to glance over her shoulder once she straightened, confirming that they were music sheets, as he'd suspected. 

"The room itself doesn't look particularly new." Shinguuji mused, lingering in the door frame as he eyed the chalkboard. Ouma, meanwhile, found his attention caught by the shelves as he wandered over and began skimming the titles. "Perhaps your earlier assumption was partially correct, Akamatsu-san. This could have been a music room that was merely repurposed as your research Lab."

"Maybe." She mumbled in a distracted tone, making it obvious she wasn't paying full attention. She bent down to pick up another piece of sheet music, inspecting the two sheets she now held as Ouma began to pull out CDs, flipping them over to get a closer look. "I think...this is a section of Chopin's Polonaise-Fantaisie."

Shinguuji moved towards the shelves too, beginning to pick out CDs himself. He couldn't blame him - aside from the piano itself, it was the most intriguing part of the room. Ouma hummed, one hand on his hip as he slotted another CD back into its place. "Speaking of fantasy, almost all of these are classical. Is that just the room, or are you the kind of pianist who thinks classical is the only genre?" He threw his hands up, waving them goodnaturedly with a cheeky smile. "No judgement, of course! You can play whatever you want, just curious and all."

Akamatsu squeaked at the accusation, faltering in her continuation to collect the dreadful amount of sheet music everywhere in favour of shooting him a halfhearted glare. He chose not to point out her coloured cheeks. "I-It's not like that!" She averted her gaze. "Okay, I'll admit I do enjoy classical, but that's because that's where I started. It's not like I don't like playing more modern pieces."

"Yeah, because the lack of anything but classical CDs really shows how  _ diverse _ your tastes are." Ouma teased with an impish grin, because he had been nice for long enough and it was infinitely more entertaining to see Akamatsu's nose scrunch up in disagreement. Besides, while she often seemed frustrated with him, she didn't seem to take things personally like some of the others did.

Case in point, Shinguuji immediately ruined his playful taunting by sternly glancing up from the CD he was looking at. "I don't see why Akamatsu-san's preferences should be subject to mockery. I, myself, quite enjoy listening to classical music in my spare time." Ouma stuck his tongue out like the child he is, and was promptly ignored. "While we're on the subject though, I was meaning to ask if you would be willing to play a piece for me. I'd enjoy hearing your talent in action."

"That's a sudden request." Akamatsu remarked with a laugh that sounded nervous in his ears. "Are you sure?"

"Oh, pretty pretty please?" Ouma cooed, batting his eyelashes as he clasped his hands together. Although he didn't think it was necessary, he tacked onto the end of his sentence, lacking sincerity. "You know I didn't mean any of that teasing, right?"

She rolled her eyes, but had a soft smile. "Okay, lemme find the first few pages of this and then I'll play you guys a section." She waved the sheets in her hand, before scouring the papers on the floor for the ones she was looking for. He skipped over to stand at the side of the piano, toeing around the mess. 

Akamatsu settled on the stool once she found what she was looking for, carefully arranging the sheet music in front of her. She rested her fingers on the keys, taking a few breaths to compose herself as she skimmed the pages, before beginning to play. 

The song started off gentle, slow and light. Usually, a slow pace made Ouma restless, but as he closed his eyes and let the music surround him, he found it wasn't as boring as he thought. The music crescendoed, the melody growing more complex as it continued while never fully shaking that mystical undertone. He was almost disappointed when Akamatsu reached the end of her sheets, made apparent by the gradual softening of the notes, even though the melody itself felt incomplete.

Nonetheless, he joined Shinguuji in applause, grinning. "Wow, that was super, super good, Akamatsu-chan! I can see why you're an Ultimate." This time, his compliment was completely sincere; he genuinely enjoyed listening to her play, because it felt like her passion seeped into the song. 

"Indeed. Despite not having long to prepare, you didn't stumble in the slightest." Shinguuji, clearly impressed, moved towards the two situated at the piano with an amused smile. 

Akamatsu flushed in embarrassment, her grin showing her gratitude for the praise. She leaned back, relaxing out of her playing position as she collected the sheets in order and set them aside. "Aw, thanks! I'm glad you guys liked it. My sole motivation for music has always been making others smile."

"If that is true, then I'm happy to say that I believe you're succeeding." The anthropologist said amicably, leaning against the side of the piano with neatly folded arms. Akamatsu waved a hand dismissively, letting out yet another laugh, and Ouma was starting to believe that was a nervous habit of hers.

"I'm glad, but that's enough about me. Really, piano isn't that impressive." She beamed regardless of her words, clasping her hands to her chest as she looked at them expectantly. "What about you two? Do either of you play anything?"

"Never touched an instrument in my life, ma'am." Ouma sang back with a lopsided grin, fidgeting with the strap of the bag over his shoulder as he tilted his head, the movement causing his fringe to fall out of his eyes. He didn't find it necessary to mention his proficiency with a concertina, which was developed purely out of boredom and the urging of his friends, who thought it would be hilarious. 

Akamatsu nodded in understanding, before turning her gaze to Shinguuji, who let out a small sigh and glanced out of the window. "My sister rather enjoyed playing violin, and tried to interest me in the instrument herself, but I always preferred studying music instead of contributing." 

"Oh, is music also a part of anthropology?" She asked, visibly surprised, and seemed to be just as interested when Shinguuji began to devolve into a tangent. Ouma, however, wasn't particularly drawn in by the change in topic and decided he had spent enough time in the lab. Quietly, he left, pausing at the doorway long enough to give them both a parting wave before stepping back out into the hall.

As soon as he did, he noticed Gonta stood in the center of the hall, looking around with a pinched expression. When they locked eyes, he brightened up instantly. "Ouma-kun! There you are!" So the concentration was because he was looking for him, huh?

"Heeey, big guy." Ouma said in the most casual voice possible, folding his arms behind his head and ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of the bag jostling with the movement. "What's up?"

"Some of the others were looking for you. Gonta thinks they figured out where one of the things can be used." He explained quickly, gesturing at the bag. "They're around the corner, at the dragon statue."

"Mhm, I guessed as much." Ouma raked a hand through his hair, ruffling it to his satisfaction before patting Gonta on the arm and adding, more cheerfully because he didn't have the heart to act cold towards such a softie: "Thanks for letting me know!"

This was the best decision he could have made, because Gonta looked ecstatic at the simple words. "No problem!" He happily replied as he followed Ouma through the extensive, tiresome fifteen step journey from the Ultimate Pianist's Lab to the dragon statue near the stairs.

Waiting there was Tojo and Hoshi, the former scrutinising the statue while the latter stood back, not appearing to be particularly engaged. Hoshi noticed the two first, giving a two finger salute in greeting, but was unable to say anything before Tojo realised their presence too, and sighed. "I didn't realise you were so nearby, Ouma-kun. I just sent Amami-kun and Kiibo-kun away to try and find you too, but that appears to have been an unnecessary decision."

She appeared vaguely frustrated, but unsurprisingly, that was outweighed by her composure. Hoshi chuckled, shaking his head. "Don't worry about it, I wouldn't say they're the type to hold grudges. They'll just come back eventually, and realise we already found him."

"What d'you need me for, anyway?" Ouma asked conversationally, even as he peeked inside the bag to examine the contents again, which made it very clear that he knew exactly why he was needed. "Gonta mentioned something about finding somewhere to use the junk."

"Yes, I believe so." Tojo nodded, motioning towards the statue before pointing out a specific detail. He squinted before realising his attention was being drawn to the dragon's eye; that is to say, it's lack of a right eye. "In our bundle, so to speak, there was some sort of red gem, correct? It looks similar to the dragon's eye, so perhaps it can be used to complete the statue."

"Looks more like a marble if you ask me, but yeah, okay." He grabbed said item from the bag, before readjusting the straps on his shoulders. He idly threw the gem up before catching it in his palm, rinse and repeat. "We can give that shot!"

Ouma moved forward, and was quickly mortified to find out that, even while straining, he was  _ just _ too short to slot the gem in. He didn't care much about his height - people have told him in the past that his ability to project confidence and intimidate made him seem taller anyway - but it was plain annoying to be a mere inch away from victory. He heard Hoshi chuckle behind him, and shot a glare at him over his shoulder that he hoped conveyed the message that Hoshi was a hypocrite. 

"Oh, Gonta can help with that!" Gonta must have noticed his struggle, and Ouma let out a dramatic sigh and accepted, holding out the gem. He had expected Gonta to take it from him and complete the set task himself. He had  _ not _ expected to suddenly find himself lifted into the air, warm hands wrapped firmly around his waist. He squawked, struggling momentarily in surprise before ceasing just as quick. This was Gonta, after all - if he was going to allow anyone to carry him, it would be him. Besides, it wasn't like he could kill him with two direct witnesses. 

A quick glance around revealed amusement in the expressions of both Tojo and Hoshi, the traitors, one more pronounced than the other. It also revealed a proud smile in his peripheral, but Gonta had just solved their problem, so he deserved to wear that. The assessment took a few seconds at most, but already, Ouma felt like he had wasted enough time, so he refocused and slotted the gem into the available eye socket.

Gonta stepped back, setting him down gently, before gasping and immediately pushing Ouma behind him protectively. Tojo disappeared from the corner of his eye, backing away towards where Hoshi stood, closer to the opposite wall. He peeked around him, having not caught what the issue is, to see the red gem glowing, brighter and brighter as cracks appeared in the bronze of the statue, spiralling from the gem.

He realised and recognised the issue, readjusting his scarf and squeezing his eyes shut as the statue and connected wall exploded. Dust fell in thick plumes as the rubble crumbled into piles at the side of the new opening, but Ouma had been mostly protected by Gonta, who let out a few coughs but otherwise seemed fine. The two behind them appeared to be okay too, aside from a small coughing fit themselves. 

The dust settled and Gonta finally stepped to the side with a small smile, slipping his glasses off to wipe off the collected dust. Tojo carefully stepped forward, frowning slightly as Ouma's gaze followed the revealed hallway. It was lined by stone archways, and brick walls, all of which showing signs of age. The hallways itself appeared to lead around a corner, and must not have access to any of the windows, because it was darker than the rest of the school. 

After a few moments of careful hesitation, Gonta and Hoshi slowly made their way down the new hallway, quietly talking to each other as they did. Ouma was tempted to follow them, but instead he glanced at Tojo, who had stopped where the statue once was. "Something wrong?"

She looked up, almost surprised by his presence, before shaking her head. "Nothing's wrong, I just find it odd. I can feel stagnant air coming from this hallway, as if nobody has been inside for a long time."

"Huh." He said in a tone that could be interpreted as dismissive. On the contrary, he found the observation to be something interesting. From his understanding, they only recently finished the renovations, which he had assumed included some interaction with the research labs. It didn't make sense for there to be stagnant air in an area that must have had some sort of maintenance recently. Still, there were more pressing matters to attend to, so he shrugged as he skipped forward. "Well, whatever. Let's go explore!"

Exploring translated to wandering through the archways and around the corner to immediately stop at the door of another research lab, if the surrounding panelled section lined by pine framing meant anything. It seemed to be becoming a pattern. The panels and door both displayed patterns of lace and circles in muted colours, making it appear undoubtedly elegant. Unfortunately, that didn't give him many obvious clues as to who the lab belonged to, so he did the only logical thing and carefully cracked the door open. Making sure it wasn't boobytrapped - not that he truly believed it was, but better to be safe than sorry - he went in. 

He's aware that Tojo followed him inside, but is momentarily distracted by the extravagance of the room. It's not like Akamatsu's lab, which had been warm and almost cosy; this was gothic, looking like something that would fit perfectly into a mansion or castle. The velvet curtains and polished floorboard, the chandelier and candles along the walls, the mahogany furniture and the large dining table in the center of the room all created a regal air.

"These decorations are Victorian, commonly seen in the British Empire at the height of Queen Elizabeth's reign. At the time, employing a maid was a symbol of status." Tojo commented lightly, the click of her heels drawing his attention as she moved throughout the room, analysing the decoration. She came to a stop, a small smile blooming on her face. "This must be my research lab."

"Oooh, that makes sense! It suits you!" He cooed, well aware that he sounded a bit too condescending, skipping closer to where Tojo was running her fingertips along the white tablecloth. The table was set with silver cutlery and pink napkins, endorned with bunches of pink flowers as decoration, though he was more concerned with the two lifesize dolls set up on the chairs. They had no expressions, and were dressed in explicitly fancy clothes. He didn't bother to hide his sneer. "Gonna be honest though, those dolls are kinda freaky."

Tojo looked up from where she was straightening a crooked fork, gaze flickering to the dolls. "I assume these figures must represent the people I serve." She paused. "That said, I do admit that they appear unnerving, though I can't expect much else from something provided to us by Monokuma."

"I guess you're right." He sighed, leaning against the back of one of those ornate chairs as his gaze wandered. It settled on the opposite wall, made of white panelling, and eyed what looked like hinges connecting them all. A closet? Curious, he pushed off the chair and rounded the table, making his way to the first white panel. With enough force behind the push, the wall yielded, the panelling folding up into itself to reveal another nook of the room. The movement caused a loud creaking of the poor hinges, which was sure to attract Tojo's attention, but he was more focused on the small, rectangular side room. 

The walls were a dull grey, a complete contrast to the lavish decorations and green wallpaper in the main lab. It held no light source, which left the corners shrouded in darkness as the chandelier from the main room could only extend light so far. Aside that, there wasn't much inside the room itself, except for an abundance of laundry machines, pressure washers, vacuums and other cleaning appliances. 

Ouma could admit that was slightly disappointing, but Tojo didn't seem to share the sentiment. If anything, she seemed thrilled as she ventured into the room to get a closer look at the machines. "Excellent. These will all be most helpful when I perform my cleaning." 

She was wearing a smile, soft and genuine, not one of her usual polite ones, and he had to wonder how much enjoyment she got from her duties. "You're cleaning the whole school? Who set you up for that?" He asked with a half grin, wandering back over to those damn dolls and carefully poking them. Both seemed to be built like mannequins, with fabric skin over wooden bones. 

She paused her investigations to look towards him, directing that genuine smile towards him. "Nobody. It's simply my responsibility as a maid. I choose to live with selfless devotion, which means I serve everyone. And, in a situation like this, I believe that keeping the school clean is the least I can do. It's also a good way of keeping myself busy." She sounded so sincerely happy at the prospect, and hey, it really wasn't Ouma's place to judge. He could appreciate someone who loved their talent and strived to be the best they can be. "However, you do have a request for me, I will do everything in my power to complete it. Don't hesitate to tell me if you ever need anything."

It was a sweet, albeit predictable, speech for a maid, and Ouma decided to put his foot down on this sappy nonsense by smirking. "Y'know, Tojo-chan, you sound like a mom. Being devoted to all of us and our well being like we're your kids or something."

The reaction was near immediate. Her smile faded into a thin line, confusion and exasperation clashing in her eyes. Her voice was firm when she replied. "While I do concern myself with your wellbeings, that doesn't make me anyone's mother. It's merely my responsibility as, not only a maid, but as a classmate and friend too."

It was funny how against the teasing title she was, especially with how motherly she consistently acted, and Ouma would have loved to point that out to her if he wasn't interrupted by the door opening. Amami stepped inside with a lazy smile, looking the same as normal and not showing a hint of whatever existential crisis he was having earlier that morning. It was concerning, or weird, at least. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Not at all." Tojo smiled slightly, straightening her headband absentmindedly as something apologetic settled on her face. "My apologies, Amami-kun. Ouma-kun was much closer than I thought, so sending you away was, to put it bluntly, a waste."

"I can see that." Amami flashed an easy smile, laughing slightly as he waved at Ouma in greeting. In return, he leaned forward with hands at his hips, sticking his tongue out. "It's fine. It's always good to get some exercise, and I really didn't mind walking around the school." 

"If you're sure." Tojo nodded slowly, before turning her back to them and returning her focus to the multitude of cleaning appliances. 

Amami, meanwhile, was having a moment as he took in the room, letting out a low whistle of appreciation. "I'm guessing this is your research lab, Tojo? It reminds me of home, kind of."

"Oh yeah! You're  _ crazy _ rich, right? I bet you have loads of rooms like this!" Ouma chimed in, purposefully obnoxious as he spread his arms out to emphasise that he was referring to the fancy decorations. He grinned when Amami sent him a flat look, as if he couldn't see his lip twitching upwards.

"Is that true? I wasn't aware you came from such a prosperous family." Tojo mused, and though she kept her back turned, he could hear curiosity in her tone. "You act quite unlike any of the young masters I've served, who are from similar."

Amami chuckled, shaking his head as he folded his arms. "Ouma's exaggerating, my family's not  _ that _ rich. Dad's got a bit of an appreciation for antiques, so he likes more elegant interior design, is all." He let out a soft exhale, eyes falling to the side before continuing, a little sheepishly. "As for how I act, I guess Dad never really fit the mould, so neither do I?" 

"Exaggerating? If anything,  _ you _ are the one underselling your family fortune." Ouma huffed, being entirely overdramatic and enjoying Amami's bordering-on-fond smile in response. "Anyway, while you know I love your company, my dearest Amami-chan, I think I'm done here. I wanna figure out where Gonta and Hoshi-chan disappeared to."

"That's a shame." Amami said with a light smile laced with mirth. He finally moved properly into the room instead of lingering near the door, setting a hand on the back of one of the chairs. "I want to take a look around here, but I'm sure we'll run into each other later. You can enjoy my company then."

"I guess." He dragged the word out, letting it drip with disappointment that contradicted his bright grin. He made a beeline to the exit, pausing once he was one foot out the door. "See you later, Amami-chan! Bye Mom!"

He left before he could see Tojo's reaction, snickering as the door clicked behind him.

Walking straight ahead from the Ultimate Maid's Lab, the hallway quickly opened out into another hall, railings barring anyone from falling through the square opening taking up the middle of the space. No, a better way to describe it was an indoor balcony, and peeking over the railing confirmed his suspicions that it was overlooking the entrance hall on all sides. 

As thrilling as it was to know he could now spy on people from above, there wasn't anything of interest there, so he swiftly moved onto scurrying over to the opposite connecting hallway. Down here, there were two things that caught his eye. The first being a door that no doubt belonged to a research lab, and the other being the ominous red and gold chest sitting innocently further down, where the hallway opened up. Ouma also noted a new set of stairs to the left, still as gaudy as all the other staircases in this damned school building, but he tabled that as a non-priority. 

Seeing as the research lab was closer than the chest, it really made more sense to check into the room first. He reasoned this as he stopped in front of the door and pointedly ignored anything in the direction of his right hand side, because quite frankly, exploring expected new rooms was bad enough but finding unexplained chests in the middle of nowhere was even worse. The panelled section that marked it as a research lab was black this time, with grey silhouettes of insects, while the door itself was a soft blue with three bright blue butterflies decorating the front. It didn't take a genius to guess this was the Ultimate Entomologist's lab, and assuming that Gonta must be inside, he pushed the door open without hesitation.

Ouma had always thought the trees and patches in the hallways were weird, but that was  _ nothing _ compared to this room. Sunlight streamed in through clouded windows and the leaves of the array of trees at one side of the room. There were at least half a dozen gathered, somehow appearing unintrusive despite their size. Grass carpeted the floor, and there were dozens of bug cages similar to the one Gonta carried around, some stacked in the corner and others lined up in an alcove across the room. From this distance, he couldn't tell if they held insects or not, but he could only assume that they did, in a room designed for an entomologist. Every available inch of wall was displaying insect taxidermy, neat and beautiful, and there were even a couple live butterflies fluttering in the treetops. It felt like someone had condensed the comfortable aspects of being outside into a single room; the only thing missing was a gentle summer breeze to complete the feeling. 

His earlier assumption of Gonta being here was correct, but he was pleasantly surprised by Kiibo's presence too. The two were looking over the alcove of bug cages, but looked up in sync at his entrance, and he didn't try to fight his bright grin. "Kiiboy, Gonta, hey! Nice research lab you have here." 

Kiibo smiled back and nodded in greeting, but didn't say anything as he turned back to the bugs. Perhaps that was because he knew Gonta wanted to ramble, as he instantly lit up, his smile threatening to split his face in half with how excited he was. "Yes, it's like a paradise! There are so many different bugs here, and it reminds Gonta of the forest, which is nice. He's very excited to have his own special room!"

"Gonta-kun is so happy that he initially wanted to thank whoever arranged the room." Kiibo added with a smile in his voice. Ouma, meanwhile, was distracted by the log table near the center of the room, piled high with a number of books.

"He thought it would be gentlemanly to thank them for hard work." Gonta admitted sheepishly as Ouma walked to the table, gleaning the titles of the books. Unsurprisingly, they all seemed to be related to entomology, but he picked one up and started flipping through it regardless. "Then he was confused, because Monokuma made the room, and no bad person likes bugs. But Kiibo-kun told Gonta that Monokuma doesn't need to like bugs to make the room, he just needs to not be scared, and that makes sense. So he won't thank him." 

"Yeah, that's probably for the best. I'd really hate for him to think we  _ appreciate _ him or something stupid like that." Ouma scoffed, staring at the double page spread on butterflies without actually reading anything. There was mumbled agreement from the other two, and a second of silence before Gonta took the opportunity to continue his excited rambling.

"There are lots of eggs and larvae here, as well as grown up bugs. They're all sleeping in a cool place too." Gonta murmured happily, and a quick glance from the book showed him kneeling down in front of the cages to look inside. Ouma decided to join them, closing the book and hurrying over. 

"Do you think they'll hatch?" Kiibo asked quietly as he leaned down to watch the insects, seemingly just as absorbed in them as Gonta himself. Ouma looked closer at the cages, and suppressed a shudder at the sight. He decided to focus his gaze on the green tops of the cages instead. 

"If Gonta takes good care of them, then yes!" The entomologist was unaware of his discomfort, thankfully. He gasped, waving his hands excitedly before reaching out to carefully pick up one of the cages. He cradled it, looking up with a blinding smile. "Kiibo-kun! Ouma-kun said ground beetles are your favourite, right? There are some here!"

The reminder of one of his impulse lies made him bite his lip, interested in how Kiibo would react. The robot didn't say anything, and his expression was relatively blank as he walked over to Gonta, albeit slightly curious. Gonta held the cage up for him to see closer, and Ouma found his sudden expression of awe both funny and endearing; slightly slacked jaw, bright eyes and raised eyebrows. He gently took the cage from Gonta, who was practically vibrating from the happiness of seeing Kiibo's current expression, before he finally collected himself enough to smile softly. "Yes, they are my favourite."

It may have started out as a lie, but Ouma knew Kiibo was telling the truth. 

Ouma had planned to spend more time with them, but Gonta was encouraged by Kiibo's awe and had started pointing out different bugs and specimens, and he didn't think he could stand being here for that. He could handle bugs, but not  _ that _ much. "I'd love to stay, but unfortunately, I gotta explore the rest of the area. Have fun, you two!" He called after tiptoeing to the door, and after getting acknowledgement and goodbyes, he slipped out of the room.

He was quickly reminded of why he had planned on spending longer with Kiibo and Gonta when he turned left and was met with the damn treasure chest again. Ouma sighed slowly, adjusting the strap of the fabric bag. He wasn't excited to check it out, and in full honesty, he could easily walk past it and leave it as someone else's problem. Unfortunately, he wasn't someone who was content with not getting answers, so he was personally obligated regardless of any secondary elements like morals or responsibility. 

Ouma squatted down in front of the chest, setting both hands on the lid and cautiously pushing upwards, just to make sure he wasn't worrying over something locked. It opened a fraction and, considering the lack of any explosions or other possibly deadly alternatives, he decided to throw caution to the wind and pushed it open fully. 

The inside of the chest was lined with red velvet, and nestled comfortably in the middle was what appeared to be...a flashlight? He gingerly lifted it out of the chest, turning it this way and that to get a better look at it. Yes, it mostly looked like a really strange sort of flashlight, but considering the circumstances, he doubted it was something as simple as that. If it was, it would be a waste of an ominous chest. He thumbed at the switch, but didn't add any pressure to turn it on. Not when he had no idea what this thing did.

_ "Can I have a look at that?" _

The whispered question made him jolt, having not heard anyone approaching, and he shifted his thumb just enough to avoid accidentally turning the device on. "Geez, are you  _ trying _ to give me a heart attack?" He barked without much heat behind his words. He stood up from his position and turned to see Saihara lingering nearby, eyes on the device before flickering up to his chin, which was enough to show he was paying attention to him. "Why do you want it anyway?"

Ouma could assume, but he'd rather have proper confirmation. Saihara awkwardly readjusted his trenchcoat, gaze falling to the floor as he cleared his throat. "Ah, well, I want to inspect it, that's all. It's- the chest and its position was strange anyway, so I thought it's suspicious enough to look into." There was a pause, and before Ouma responded, he hastily added: "I don't have to, of course! I, uh, would like to, though."

So the reasoning was about as much as he expected. Ouma didn't have many qualms with letting Saihara investigate the device, seeing as he was the Ultimate Detective, but he hesitated as he recalled breakfast. The others had a point. Saihara was an odd character, and certainly not someone he even remotely trusted, but he was also arguably the most experienced for this, and smart to boot. He was stuck at a stalemate. Eventually, he allowed himself a grin as he held the device out. "I guess I should've expected that, huh, Mr Detective? Well, don't let me stop you from doing what you do best!"

Nothing happened for a long moment, and he almost considered taking the offer back before Saihara tentatively took the device from him. He handled it delicately like it was fragile - for all they knew, it might be. Ouma watched him for a few moments before turning back to chest to check it for any sort of hidden compartments, just to be sure. He ran his fingers along the inside, silently revelling in the texture but realising after a minute of probing that the chest held no other secrets.

He sighed, getting up and turning with the intention of lightly pestering Saihara to find himself alone. He took a moment to process his sudden lack of presence, furrowing his eyebrows and rocking back on his heels. "Saihara-chaaaan?" He shouted, and predictably got nothing in response. How did he move so silently anyway? It was like he teleported! Ouma huffed, shaking his head and ruffling his hair with both hands to release his frustration. He was only mildly pissed about Saihara's disappearing act with the mysterious device in tow, mainly because he doubted he would do anything actively malicious, so they were safe in that regard. Saihara was also smart enough to not set the device off accidentally. If that wasn't the case, he might have tried to track him down, but as it stood, the device was in safe hands, trust or not. 

Instead, he turned his attention to the new stairs and made his way up to the third floor.

The walls had a concerning amount of moss growing along it, but otherwise, the hallway looked like all the others in the building. At the top of the stairs stood a research lab door, with a black door and similarly coloured panelling. The image of a white tennis racket took up the length of the door, and the panelling had matching tennis balls in grey. Like most of the labs, figuring out who it belonged to was a no-brainer. He moved to enter, and upon hearing muffled conversation, had his interest piqued enough to do so without a second thought.

To put it simply, the room was an indoor tennis court. A net ran along the center of the room, and the floor bore the standard court markings in white. The room was washed in a cool palette, which only served to make the bright yellow tennis equipment seem even brighter. Tennis balls were strewn across the floor haphazardly, similar to the sheet music in Akamatsu's lab, though whether that had anything to do with the inactive tennis ball machines or not was unclear. On the opposite side of the court to the tennis ball machines was a machine that spun three mechanical arms around at varying speeds, all of which were holding rackets. The atmosphere of the room as a whole seemed professional; even with the weird racket machine and mess on the floor, it lacked any sort of personality. 

The conversation he had heard through the door - which looked to be between Hoshi and, surprisingly, Chabashira - faltered at his unannounced entrance, which gave him ample time to waltz in and smirk. "Hellooo you two! What's going on?"

Chabashira instantly looked at him with an expression that made it seem like her day had been ruined. It was very possible that it was, all things considered. Hoshi, on the other hand, gave him a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Nothing much. I was just leaving, anyway."

"Whaaat? But this is your lab, right? Don't you wanna look around or something?" Ouma tilted his head, folding his arms behind his back as he spoke as obnoxiously as possible. Chabashira averted her eyes in a huff, but added nothing to the conversation. He did wonder what they were talking about before he came in. 

"Sure, but it has nothing to do with me. I'm not involved with tennis anymore." He muttered, gazing at the court with melancholy before shaking his head with a sigh. He began to make his way to the door, and Ouma noted how he walked around the court, purposefully avoiding stepping on it. 

He didn't get too far before Chabashira seemed to snap, groaning in annoyance. "Don't just run  _ away _ , you- you degenerate!" The insult, funnily enough, didn't seem to hold any feeling behind it. 

Hoshi exhaled slowly, as if in resignation, and while he stopped, he didn't turn to face her. "I'm not gonna change my mind, Chabashira. You can do what you want, but don't expect me to get involved."

"But it's not as good of a challenge otherwise!" Chabashira burst out, throwing her hands in the air. "I've got too much energy, and if I don't have someone to focus on, then it'll keep building. I  _ know _ that's not healthy." 

Ouma felt like he was horrendously uninformed, which was the worst thing he could possibly be feeling, as well as a bit of a third wheel to whatever disagreement they were having. He awkwardly began to make his way over to a door he noticed along the same wall as the entrance, in the style of a watertight door. 

"Then get someone else to play with you. I don't play tennis anymore, and I haven't for a long time." Hoshi said flatly, and - oh, that's what this was about? Ouma figured she was being so insistent because she wanted to distract herself from the thought of yesterday, and seeing how she was naturally energetic, sport would be her best bet. Why she was pushing Hoshi specifically was more unclear. 

Still, her shoulders lowered slowly, and if he didn't know any better, Ouma would say he saw her eyes soften as he arrived at the watertight door. "Fine." Then, after a beat of silence, she shouted. "Ouma-san! Want to play tennis against me?"

Ouma clicked his tongue, not particularly surprised by this turn of events but still resolutely staring at the door in front of him. Hoshi, noticing his stare, chuckled. "That's the shower room. Not much in there."

Deeming that a suitable explanation, Ouma spun on his heel to stare at Chabashira, who was looking at him expectantly. He cracked a half smile as Hoshi shuffled out of the room. "Sorry," He knew for a fact that he didn't sound sorry at all. "I really want to finish searching around here. Plus I have the junk," He raised the arm that had the bag slung over it in emphasis, "so I could be called away at any minute, and that would make for a very boring match, y'know? How about you ask someone like Akamatsu-chan, or Amami-chan? They'd probably be up for it."

Chabashira looked down in thought, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. Then, visibly reluctant: "You know where they are?"

Ouma smirked, remarkably smug and entertained by the frown he got in response. He made a beeline towards the exit, because while he doubted Chabashira was going to actually attack him, he would rather take precautions. "Last I saw, Amami-chan was in Tojo-chan's research lab, and Akamatsu-chan was in her own. Obviously. Good luck finding them, byyye!" Then, he flashed a bright smile and hurried out the door.

He speedwalked across another balcony overlooking the entrance hall and, by proxy, the lower balcony. He continued to speedwalk down the connecting hallway and onwards, not finding anything eyecatching to make him slow down. When he did, it was because he had met both a dead end and another research lab.

The door and panelling were a simple, deep red lined with gold. There wasn't any graphics or patterns to indicate any sort of talent; it was much plainer than the other doors. There wasn't going to be any way to guess who this belonged to except for entering. Ouma briefly thought it might belong to Amami as he reached for the doorknob, entertaining the idea of finally figuring out what his talent is. He was immediately proven wrong when the door cracked open and he was met with Harukawa's sharp gaze.

"I didn't say you could come in." Her voice was stern, and she stood strategically so he couldn't see the room around her. He furrowed his eyebrows, lips curling upwards in a sneer.

"Just because it's your lab doesn't mean I can't enter, y'know, Harukawa-chan?" He hummed, keeping his body language casual despite his harsh expression. "All the research labs are open to the public."

"Well, mine isn't. Stop being a brat and go away." She shot back, voice clipped with something fierce even as her face remained near emotionless, aside from a twitch of her eyebrow. 

Ouma toyed with the idea of bothering her further, but he wasn't here to start a fight, so he let out a breath and allowed his face to soften into a more friendly smile. He allowed his annoyance to show through his eyes, knowing being too friendly would be suspicious. "Okay, okay. I don't get why you want to keep it secret, but you do you!" He threw his arms out as he turned around, folding them behind his head in mock relaxation. He walked back down the hallway at a steady pace until he heard the door click closed again, at which he slowed to a stop. 

He chanced a glance back at Harukawa's lab, pressing his lips into a thin line as he squinted one eye. Harukawa acted suspicious to begin with, but not letting people enter her lab was telling. The labs were arranged by Monokuma, so it was unlikely that there was anything inherently personal that she would want to guard in there. That meant she either had so little trust in all of them that she wanted as much privacy she could get, or she was hiding it for the same reason he was. 

Because she was lying, most likely about her talent.

He thought back to the way she seemed to tense when he introduced himself as a youth leader, a title that could possibly, in one definition, overlap with child caregiver. He considered how private she was in general as he dropped his arms from behind his head and began walking on autopilot, knowing the next logical step was to search outside the school building.

Food for thought, huh?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!! it's been a hot second! 
> 
> I actually took a bit of a break from writing this fic to work on a couple one-shot ideas, so this took longer than I initially planned to get out. I also split this chapter into two - originally it was going to be the whole day, but because so much happens in this one day, I decided to break it up. 
> 
> Anyway, speaking of one-shots, you may notice that this fic is now part of a series!! I've decided to write one-shots based on this story from other character POVs. I won't post many, maybe one per chapter/trial, and they won't typically add anything to the main story because if there are any spoilers referenced, they'll be posted after they're already revealed. It's just a bit of fun! You can read the one-shot I wrote during my brief break, heartstrings in minor key, for Akamatsu's aftermath of the first day.
> 
> As for this chapter, my only note is that I know Kiibo was freaked out by the bugs in the Insect Meet and Greet but I am canonically rewriting that because I feel like Kiibo is someone who would be curious by nature and wouldn't have had much direct exposure to bugs beforehand, and I want him to bond with Gonta over insects!!
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I'll see you next chapter!


	10. 2.2 : Spotlight Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mystery of the junk may have been solved, but that just meant that another had to crawl out of the woodwork, dragging a hundred new questions with it.

Ouma wouldn't admit it, but perhaps he regretted volunteering himself for safekeeping.

He had barely set foot outside before he was swept away by Angie, who was chattering about finding something and the ocarina. He complained loudly in response, but didn't try to fight her as she dragged him around the school building to a building with an entrance blocked by vines. He had seen it in passing from wandering around, along with the stone monument in front of it, but he had never paid much attention to it.

"See! There's a melody carved right here!" Angie let go of him to point out the image on the face of the monument. Like she said, there was a bar of notes underneath a scene of waves and palm trees. 

Ouma squinted as he tried to remember what notes they were before reaching into the bag to retrieve the ocarina. "I guess there is! Can you play this thing, though? I dunno how to read music." An inconsequential lie slipped through his teeth before he could stop himself as he held the ocarina out to her. 

Angie tilted her head, making no move to take the instrument from him. "I dunno. Do you want to try first?"

He didn't reply or retract his hand, simply giving her a sardonic smile. It may work on some people, but Ouma wasn't one to accept commands from people, especially indirect ones. 

She pouted, puffing her cheeks out but taking the hint regardless. She took the ocarina, looking over both it and the music score. He didn't bother trying to rush her, knowing any attempt wouldn't work, and instead waited for her to start playing.

It was a simple tune, but apparently it was enough, because the vines blocking the entrance suddenly withered away. It revealed the doors to the building, and a large sign above it that read 'pool' with a cute graphic of a dolphin to the side. He didn't understand why they needed a pool, but it was arguably more normal than most things in this place. 

"Wow! How strange - it must be the work of Atua!" Angie gasped, clapping her hands together. Ouma gave her a flat look that didn't faze her, debating whether he should point out all the holes in that theory even though he realistically knew it wouldn't make any difference aside from being cathartic.

Eventually, he chose to walk to the doors, talking flippantly over his shoulder. "But Monokuma gave us the ocarina to figure out the puzzle, so if Atua got rid of the vines for us, doesn't that mean he's working with Monokuma or something?" He peered through the dark glass of the doors, trying to look inside before quickly realising that it was one way. His words could easily be considered blasphemy, but he didn't particularly care.

Then again, maybe he shouldn't be provoking someone in grief. 

He didn't get an opportunity to feel any sort of remorse before Angie was chiding him. "No, no, no! Atua would never side with Monokuma. He helped clear the vines to save us time, you see?" She skipped over to catch up with him. He didn't respond, not particularly interested in picking a fight, instead opening the door and going inside. 

His first impression of the pool was the fact that it was impressive. The area felt like something out of a holiday resort, luxurious and large. The ceiling was made of glass, culminating into a dome above the entrance and allowing sunlight to shine down, to accentuate the bright orange of the walls. There was a diving board at one of the pool sides, with stairs that led up to three possible levels to jump from, and the rest were occupied by pool chairs. Further down, the upper wall overhung the side of the pool, held up by large pillars that were decorated with crawling vines and flowers. Lights were embedded into the ceiling of the overhang, illuminating any darkness underneath. More plants were growing around the room, the most notable being the scattered palm trees that increased the illusion of an exotic paradise. 

The pool itself was large and rectangular, but Ouma was slightly disappointed to not see the telltale shimmer of water near the rim of the pool. He wandered closer, ignoring Angie's excited noises behind him as he checked the pool to find the water at a pathetically shallow depth. He sighed disdainfully. "Well, that's unfortunate."

Angie, curious about his reaction, drew closer to the pool side and whined when she noticed the problem, pressing her hands to her cheeks. "Aw, how are we going to swim now?"

_"You can still swim! It just looks shallow because of how deep the pool is."_

Neither of them flinched at the sudden high pitched voice, but he had a feeling that Angie's smile faltered as they turned to see the Monokubs. Red was talking, and as much as he wanted to zone out, he was aware that it was best to get as much information on the environment as possible. "We couldn't fill it any higher, anyway. Higher risk of someone drowning if we did that."

"Yeah, and youse ain't supposed to be dying by accident. Youse gotta die by the killing game!" Yellow butted in, before he could question why someone drowning would be a problem in their eyes. He supposed that meant his caution around exploring the new rooms was unneeded, if they frowned upon any deaths that weren't murder by classmate.

"It's the same reason why the pool is prohibited during nighttime." Pink added, gesturing at the water. "The pool side is alright, but even touching the water isn't allowed!"

"Why nighttime?" Ouma asked with a raised eyebrow, silently challenging. "You think people are more likely to forget how to swim in the dark, or something? If you were worried about someone falling in, the entire area would be closed off, right?"

Unsurprisingly, this was not the best thing to say, because Yellow instantly became defensive. "Because those are the rules and that's that! If youse don't wanna listen to us, then use your eyes and read them. They're right there!" He huffed as he pointed across the pool, where indeed, there seemed to be a laminated poster.

Intrigued, he began to walk over to it as Monodam started praising his siblings for something or other. He didn't really know what was going on between them all, nor did he particularly want to, so he followed through with his earlier urge and zoned them out. With his back turned as he arrived at the rules notice, he only realised they were leaving because his attention was caught by the door opening with a creak as they were thrown open a little too wide.

"Damnit, just missed them!" Momota shouted in frustration as he burst through the doors. He deflated slightly, letting out a sigh as he rubbed the nape of his neck. "What bullshit were they saying this time? Nothing important, was it?"

"I don't think they usually have anything important to say." Angie mused, her usual smile back in place as she stepped away from the poolside. "They were talking about the pool rules, but like Atua said, they didn't make much sense."

"Liar, _I_ was the one who said that." Ouma cried, as if he was a nobleman being unfairly slighted, before snorting. He raked his hair out of his face for only a moment, so he could flash Momota a playful smirk. "Care for a dip, Momota-chan?" He crowed, making sure it sounded like a threat.

The astronaut didn't respond until he leaned over to look at the pool, at which point his eyebrows pinched together. "Why's the water so-"

"Shallow? So nobody accidentally drowns, apparently. Geez, we already had this conversation! If you're gonna be late to the party, at least read the pool rules before asking questions." Ouma taunted, the smug grin comfortable on his face as he watched Angie wander around the pool out of the corner of his eye. Momota grunted, glaring at him (which only succeeded in enhancing his satisfaction) before marching over to read the rules himself. 

Ouma took the opportunity to read them himself, listening to Momota stop at his left after a few seconds. There wasn't much else, aside from some specifications: the pool was 39 feet wide and 82 feet long, and the poolside was 13 feet at each end and 8 feet on the left and right. Nothing particularly interesting; he glanced sideways at Momota to see him leaning forward, hands on his hips as he scanned the text. 

Bored, Ouma backed up as he looked around the room as a whole again. His gaze settled on the thin, rectangular window above the set of rules. He scrutinised it with a curled lip, knowing the shape was familiar from somewhere. "Hey, where'd you think that window leads to?" 

"Hm?" Momota straightened up, looking over quizzically and following a pointed sceptre to the window in question. "Oh, that looks like the window in the gym. Would make sense too, seeing as gyms and pools usually go together in schools."

He snapped his fingers, recognition flooding his mind. "That was it! Yeah, I guess that does make sense." He took another glance around, shifting his sceptre from one hand to the other before pointing at another window. It was built into the overhang, identical to the school building's windows. However, it was unique with its lack of barbs or obstruction, leaving it looking completely untouched. "Wanna place your bets on where that window leads?"

Momota squinted at it, rubbing his stupid goatee in thought. "Not sure, man. If it's looking out over the pool, then it should be pretty obvious which room it is based on the view. Maybe it's somewhere we haven't got access to?"

It was an unsatisfactory answer, but one that made the most sense, so he didn't badger him any further. Instead, he holstered his sceptre with a sly smile. "Congrats, Momota-chan, you have a functioning brain! I'm so impressed."

"Don't say that like I'm some kind of idiot!" Momota shot back defensively, and Ouma giggled as he finally scanned the room to try and find Angie. A door left ajar underneath the overhang gave him a pretty good idea as to where she was, and he didn't bother explaining himself to the other boy as he started moving.

Pushing the door further open, he found a decently sized storage room lit by LED lights. Inside was a variety of pool supplies in wire mesh boxes; kickboards, water polo balls, rubber inner tubes and pool noodles. Angie was throwing a ball up and down, pausing to look over her shoulder at his entrance. A grin exploded onto her face, and without further warning, she spun around and lobbed the ball in his direction. "Catch!"

Considering the lack of thinking time available, Ouma followed instinct and ducked to the side. The ball sailed past him and directly towards Momota, who had followed him and apparently did not get the memo on Angie's subsequent attack. He yelped and flinched back slightly, but managed to catch the ball regardless thanks to reflex. He was only slightly disappointed that he didn't get to see Momota smacked in the face.

"There are some fun things in here!" Angie chirped as if she hadn't just thrown a ball at their heads, picking up an inner tube with both hands. "It's a shame we don't have any swimsuits. Even if the water isn't very deep, we could have played water polo with the others!"

"Have you looked in the warehouse? There might be swimsuits in there." Momota pushed past him as he went to put the ball back with the rest. 

Angie set the inner tube down after a moment of moving it this way and that, eyes lighting up. "Oh, you're right, you're right! I'll have to check." 

Ouma snorted, turning away and waving an arm in farewell. "Yeah, well, I'm gonna get going. I've got one last piece of junk to deal with."

"Good luck, dude." Momota called after him, overlapping with Angie's own eager call of "May Atua be with you!" He rolled his eyes, burying his smile into his scarf.

He got to walking back down the path outside before he caught sight of Iruma, stood further away at the boundary of the courtyard. Sadly, he didn't look away fast enough, because she glanced his way a second later, and the two locked eyes. Her eyes steeled as she began to storm over to him, and he kept her gaze as he waited with his hands on his hips, not one to be intimidated.

"Oi, Chinpouma! You got a crank or somethin' in that bag, right?" She shouted as soon as she was in acceptable talking distance, pointing lazily at said bag with a raised eyebrow. 

"I don't know, Iruma-chan, why do you need it?" He asked coyly as he pranced over to meet her halfway, holding the straps of the bag with both hands. 

"Are you a fucking idiot?" She scoffed, canting her hips to one side in a show of arrogance. "I need it because I figured out where I can use it. Easily, 'cause I'm a genius, but I wasn't able to find your ass until now so I've been sitting here like a lame duck!"

"Boo-hoo, you were even more useless than normal. That's not exactly a hard feat to accomplish." Ouma teased with a malicious undertone, and relished in her resulting insulted gasp. Still, he grabbed the hexagonal crank and handed it over to her. 

She took it with a sniff, and appeared to be only slightly peeved when Ouma followed her to the wooden gate along the courtyard wall. The gate was tall, with random lettering in yellow and red adorning the front. More importantly, it was held shut by a giant sliding lock, the mechanism branching off from the door to a smooth metal attachment with a hexagonal protrusion in the center. It was fairly obvious what Iruma needed the crank for, now they were standing in front of it. 

She slotted the crank onto protrusion without much fuss, testing the resistance before pushing. With a subsequent creaking, the lock slowly slid back into the attachment, leaving the gates free to be opened. He ran over to do just that, smirking at Iruma's annoyed "hey!" as she abandoned the crank on the protrusion to follow closely behind.

If Ouma wasn't an expert at masking his expressions, his jaw would've dropped.

He could recognise that, while the reason they were here was one of the worst possible, the campus itself pretty impressive, overall. That still didn't prepare him for what was behind these gates in the slightest.

The first thing he registered that, for some odd reason, the sky here was dark and littered with stars, which was extremely jarring when compared to the blinding sunlight a few footsteps backwards. That didn't matter much though, as he was easily distracted by the bright colours that lit up the darkness. The area looked like the textbook definition of a luxury nightspot, two large buildings suspended in a lake of clear water, two paths converging into the one they were standing on. The first building was preceded by an ornate stone archway and surrounded by yellow streams of light, shining from the light fixtures on the outer ring of the island. The illuminated sign near the roof marked it as a casino, and the roof itself was decorated with a laughing Monokuma in front of a patterned semicircle, all of which were made up of flashing gold and red bulbs. The other building was simpler, in the sense that it had less flashing lights and more stagnant ones. It was surrounded by matching light fixtures that pierced the sky with streaks of purple instead of yellow, and had glow of pink that must come from some equipment directly underneath the building. The sign was a contrasting navy, and read 'Hotel Kumanami' in luminous white and pale yellow. 

"Holy shit." Iruma breathed from beside him, eyes wide.

"Holy _shit._ " Ouma agreed, because she wasn't wrong in this specific instance, before taking a moment to collect himself. Okay, so, crazy awesome nightspot which was stuck perpetually in the night, presumably for aesthetic purposes. Speaking of purposes, he had no idea _why_ they needed either of these buildings, and it wasn't like he could reuse the pool's excuse of schools sometimes having them because they _didn't._

He thought he might as well take this one step at a time, because even though he was surprised, he still had to look around. He was more interested with the casino, attracted by its grand appearance, and therefore began approaching it, with an offhand remark over his shoulder. "Hurry up Iruma-chan, I am in desperate need for entertainment."

"If you're so desperate for entertainment, maybe you should just go and jerk yourself off in the bathroom. Maybe that'll help you be less of an asshole." Iruma barked with a leering grin, prompting a roll of his eyes as he turned to walk backwards, pinning her with a harsh stare.

"I'm only an asshole to you because you're such a stupid bitch. Maybe you should deal with your own sexual tension before you suggest I do the same. People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones, y'know?" He smirked viciously, watching her face crumple as she stammered something out in a feeble attempt to soothe her ego. Ouma didn't care enough to listen as he opened the door to the casino and led them both inside.

The interior was bright red, with seating closer to the walls. He didn't get a chance to look around too closely, because the Monokubs appeared out of a hidden corner to drop some more information on them.

_"Welcome to the casino!"_

"You can play games to earn casino coins, which you can exchange for wonderful prizes at the prize exchange counter!" Monodam explained, a monotonous sound despite the clear attempts at emotion. He gestured towards a counter in the corner of the room, decorated in cute little graphics with objects, presumably the prizes, hidden behind glass. "To start, you can exchange your Monocoins for casino coins at the exchange counter, but you have to remember that you can't change them back." He gestured to the reception desk at the center of the back wall, doubling as the exchange counter if the title in bright lights meant anything. 

"Oh! You're finished with that, right? Let me take it from you." Pink said cheerfully, once Monodam had finished his explanation. Without waiting for an answer, she popped up beside him and yanked the bag away from him. He answered with narrowed eyes, even though he was glad to be rid of it.

The bears left a few moments later, and Ouma heaved an overdramatic sigh as he turned his attention to the staircase leading downwards, with an archway that indicated it was the basement entrance in bright, flashing colours. Seeing as there wasn't much else to do, he went to go down as Iruma marched up to the exchange counter with purpose to get some casino coins.

The basement was, just like everything else in this place, extremely brightly coloured with LED lights overhead and a blue glow that seemed to emanate from the walls. It rivalled the stairs with the garish design, but his rage was lowered by the fact that the room was full of what looked like arcade games. Games were something Ouma was always fond of, so he was suitably excited by this development and began looking around at the options. While certain ones were unplayable (he eyed the car racing game sadly), the slots were open, as well as a weird fishing game. 

"Wanna see how hard I can kick your ass at slots?" Iruma challenged as she appeared behind him, a pink purse he hadn't realised she had in one hand. Her aura was smug as she watched him pull himself up onto a stool, most likely thinking she had won.

He chuckled, leaning back against the slot machine. "What kind of idiot to you take me for? I'm not going to challenge an inventor at slots. You could easily just rig the machines so you'll always win."

She sputtered, shoulders hunching as she folded her arms. "What? How dare- I'd never do something like that!" Her reaction implied the opposite. 

"Sure you wouldn't." Ouma drawled, looking at her with a deadpan expression before sighing as he turned to face the slots. "Well, can I borrow some of your coins?"

Iruma scowled, making a show of putting her purse away. "What? No, that's my fucking money! Get your own." 

He wasn't surprised, but it was worth a shot. Ouma turned back around, slipping off the stool as he folded his arms behind his head. "Whatever. Wanna go see what's going on with that hotel? I left my Monocoins in my dorm."

"I guess, since I'm gonna walk past it anyway." Iruma replied with a forlorn sigh, as if this was a huge burden, and the two set off. 

Ouma shook his head, flashing a condescending smile. "Oh please, as if you have anything better to do."

"Shut up, you shitstain."

The existence of a hotel seemed particularly useless to Ouma, considering the fact that they all had dorms, and they were the only ones here. There was nobody who would need to use a hotel room now or ever, so he was curious as to what, exactly, was the point of it.

As they approached the building, he quickly made note of the hot pink sign that sat in front of the entrance. He hurried his pace to get closer and read, disregarding Iruma's complaints at his sudden increase in speed to focus on the text. It was pricing, for both rest and overnight periods with two guests-

Oh.

This wasn't just a hotel. It was a _love hotel_.

It was kind of obvious, in hindsight, with the pink colour choice, but Ouma thought he could be excused for not considering that a viable option. Sure, teenagers being horny monsters was a common assumption and the girl beside him proved that sometimes it was correct, but that didn't change the fact that he wasn't of age yet. And while they hadn't discussed it, he thought it was safe to assume that neither was anyone else, if they were in the same 'class'. Functionally, it made the love hotel a waste of space, because nobody could use it.

Not to mention the fact that even if they could, Ouma couldn't imagine anyone _wanting_ to. Partly because there was truly nothing sexy about their current situation, and partly because it was such a huge risk to lock yourself in a room with someone else for- what, two hours, minimum? Lots of time to kill someone after getting the initial purpose over with. 

He kept all that to himself, though. He tipped his head back against his folded arms, and shot Iruma a sneaky smirk. "Hey, look! Now you have a place to be a whore in!"

Iruma cackled, puffing her chest out even as her cheeks heated. "Yeah, I bet you boys would _really_ love that. 'Fraid to say I don't think any of you are good enough to actually do anything with me. Look but don't touch!"

"You mean bad enough, right? There may be some idiots here, but I don't think any of them are stupid enough to be interested in you." Ouma replied smoothly, snickering at her indignant squeal. "I think I'm done here. You going back to the casino, Iruma-chan?"

"Nah, I saw that there was a pool now, and I wanna check that shit out." She said, meekly falling in step beside him as they walked back to the gates. Ouma gave a hum and nod of acknowledgement, but had nothing else to add.

They had just passed through the gates when footsteps began thundering towards them, from the direction of the dorms. "There you two are! Been looking all over for you guys."

"Momota-chan!" Ouma cheered, bouncing on the balls of his feet like an overexcited child. "What's wrong? Did you miss my cute face?"

"What? No!" Momota hesitated, rubbing at his nape and looking mildly awkward. "Honestly, I'm not too sure what's going on, either. Saihara just asked for everyone to meet at the gym."

Iruma groaned, brushing stray pieces of hair out of her face. "What does he want now?"

Momota shrugged, hooking his thumbs into his trouser pockets. "Dunno, man."

"Well, we shouldn't keep him waiting! That would be very rude of us." Ouma looped his arms through one of each of the others. Predictably, both protested, but a sharp glare or two and digging his fingernails into their arms seemed to do the trick. They both reluctantly let him cling to their arms, and he broke into a victorious grin. "Allons-y!"

* * *

They arrived unlinked (because Ouma released them just before they entered) to everyone waiting for them. Iruma, lacking in subtlety, groused as soon as she laid eyes on Saihara. "What the fuck do you want? You're wasting my precious time here!"

Kiibo furrowed his eyebrows, visibly confused by her haughty statement. "But you just got here?" The way Iruma's face twisted in mild embarrassment and irritation was deeply satisfying.

"Oh! Oh! Are we here for prayer, Shuichi?" Angie hopped from foot to foot, waving a hand to grab attention. Saihara, on the other hand, looked like he was regretting calling this meeting more and more by the second.

He shook his head, before clearing his throat to prepare himself for speaking louder than his usual whispers. "Actually, I, um, called you all here because I wanted to discuss something that was found in one of the newly opened areas." He held up what he was holding to call attention to it, and Ouma recognised it instantly. It was the weird flashlight from the chest outside Gonta's lab. 

"That does appear to be a rather unique flashlight, doesn't it?" Shinguuji mused, his eye holding a glint of interest as he leaned forward to get a better look at it from where he stood. 

"Yes, but I'm not sure if it's a flashlight at all." Saihara continued slowly, uncertainty dripping from his every word as his fingers shifted nervously along the light. "I tried to clarify what it is myself, but I had no luck. I thought, maybe, we could talk about it together?" His voice wavered, and he seemed to cringe at the sound of it. Ouma wondered how he managed to stare him dead in the eye and refuse to share anything in the trial yesterday, when he seemed so uncomfortable at any other given time. "Does- Does anyone have any thoughts on what to do about it, or what it might be?"

_"I sure do!"_

Everyone tensed at Monokuma's shrill voice, even before he appeared on the stage at the front of the gym, shaking his head in disappointment. "Geez, didn't anyone ever teach you kids to ask your teacher for help?"

"So you know what that thing is?" Amami asked, his eyes darkened with an unspoken threat, as it often was around the bear. Of course, this had no effect on Monokuma himself, who simply giggled at the question.

"Of course I do!" His grin seemed to curl further upwards as he tapped his muzzle. "For your information, that's a Flashback Light." 

"Flashback...Light?" Hoshi repeated slowly, rolling the syllables around his mouth as if to test the word. Ouma nibbled at the skin of his thumb as he observed the various expressions of confusion around the room and empthasized. The name implied certain things, but surely-

"Yep! While a normal flashlight sheds light on darkness, a Flashback Light sheds light on lost or forgotten memories." Monokuma chittered, looking much too pleased with himself. "I thought you'd like to recover your memories, seeing as you were all so worried about not remembering how you got here."

"So you were the one who erased our memories!" Chabashira said accusingly, pointing a finger at the bear even as Ouma was sure there was a slight tremor running up her arm. "Why would you do that?"

"I'll neither confirm nor deny." Monokuma sang back, because he couldn't possibly make things easier for them. Less likely for someone to commit murder if they weren't in emotional turmoil. "But hey! If you wanna know, maybe the Flashback Light will help you remember!"

"I'm not sure." Kiibo murmured, and while he looked nervous, his eyes held something calculating as frowned. "I find it hard to believe that something as simple as a light could help reverse amnesia." 

"Sure it can! I'd never lie to you." Monokuma's voice was dripping with condescenion, and Ouma never wanted to kick someone more. He settled for hitching his scarf higher as he pursed his lips together. "But if you really need the scientific explanation to convince you, then that's fine. The Flashback Light can cure various symptoms of memory loss, because its light stimulates the basal ganglia and hippocampus, which are both parts of the brain that are involved with your memories. Not only that, but- wow, this is so boring to explain. You get the gist!"

And without another word, he decided now was a perfectly good time to disappear, without actually explaining anything. Momota shouted after him, a growl to his words. "Don't just start an explanation and give up one sentence in!"

With no response, his shoulders slumped in resignation. The class exchanged uncertain glances, before Tojo cleared her throat to draw attention to herself. "What course of action should we take, then?"

"Gonta isn't sure. He doesn't think the Flashback Light can get his memories back." Gonta said with arms crossed, eyes down as his brows furrowed in thought. "He doesn't want to use it."

"Me neither! It's way too suspicious, especially seeing as Monokuma gave up the information so easily." Chabashira pointed out, fiddling with one of her braids. He agreed with that observation, at least - Monokuma certainly wasn't the type to give away free information out of the goodness of his nonexistent heart, so the legitimacy of his claims were questionable.

"Well, what do you think, Iruma-san?" Akamatsu asked hopefully, her smile carrying an undertone of indecision, despite her attempts to hide it. "Seeing as you're the Ultimate Inventor, you should know whether it's possible or not, right?"

She let out a laugh. "No fuckin' way a measly light can fix amnesia!" Iruma paused, and even from this distance, he could see her swallow. "Though, I guess this isn't exactly a usual situation, so anything goes."

"Yeah, there's a lot of unnatural stuff in this place anyway." Ouma conceded, folding his arms behind his back and rocking back idly on his heels, face neutral. "But even if it does work, whose to say there aren't any side effects?"

Harukawa sighed, folding her arms and hunching into herself. "This is stupid. It obviously isn't going to work. Why are we even discussing this?" 

"Well, if it isn't going to work, why don't we give it a try?" Momota asked with a tilt of his head, and even as he addressed the whole room, his challenging smile felt like it was reserved for Harukawa. 

She blinked, bewildered by the question, and admittedly, Ouma was caught off guard too, even though he understood where Momota was coming from either. "What?"

Momota sighed in preperation, no doubt to deliver another encouraging speech, and Ouma closed his eyes to brace himself for it, knowing that if Momota was so inclined, it was likely they'd end up using the light. "Look, you guys are being cautious, and I don't blame ya. But I think you're being _too_ cautious, you know?" Momota flashed a dazzling grin, pushing his fists together. "Think about it this way, yeah? We don't really have anything to lose in a situation like this, but if the Flashback Light actually works, then we have something to gain. If we have our memories back, we could know how we got here, and that might make it easier to figure out how to escape. Sure, it's a risk, but sometimes you've gotta take a few risks to be able to come out on top! So we might as well give it a go and go from there." That seemed to be the end of his initial speech, but he added as an afterthought. "You guys can leave if you want, of course! Like I said, I wouldn't blame you, but I personally think we should just face this head on."

Silence followed as everyone processed his points, but Momota didn't seem to mind as he radiated confidence. Exhaling slowly, Ouma decided to hurry things along to the inevitable by cracking a smile. "Y'know, Momota-chan, I gotta hand it to you! You can be really convincing. I'll stay!"

As he had hoped, his agreement sparked a chain of reactions in everyone else, like dominoes falling. "Gonta will stay, to support his friends. He thinks that's what a true gentleman would do."

"I shall remain too. Regardless of the outcome, it may be an interesting event to observe."

"I agree that it wouldn't do much harm to try. In fact, I feel like I should, just a whisper in the back of my mind."

Something about Kiibo's agreement didn't sit right with Ouma, and as the others continued to voice their opinions, he hurried over to the robot with light footsteps. He leaned closer, voice lowering into a mumble so the others wouldn't overhear. "A whisper, huh?"

Kiibo glanced back at him, surprise flashing through his eyes. "Yes. Why, do you not experience them as well?"

He appeared genuinely confused, and Ouma shared the sentiment, cocking abd eyebrow. "Do you mean urges? Because, yeah, I experience those."

"No, no, I'm not sure I'd describe it as an urge." Kiibo looked away, watching the others as he searched for the right term. Ouma watched him with a vague feeling of discomfort, until he eventually shook his head. "I'm not sure how to word it. My apologies."

Ouma waved a hand dismissively, moving away from him so he was no longer in his personal space. Whatever, he could worry about that later. From what he could tell, everyone had agreed to stay, except for Saihara and Amami, who shrugged with a faint smile that didn't feel genuine. "I don't mind. I'll stay now, since everyone else is."

"Alright! Wanna do the honours, Saihara?" Momota turned to face the detective, looking much more excited than the situation deemed necessary, though that may be because he managed to successfully convince everyone.

Funnily enough, Ouma thought Saihara seemed reluctant, looking down at the Flashback Light with a small frown. He snapped out of it after a moment, nodding as he shifted his grip on the light so his thumb rested over the switch, and pointing it so it would roughly hit all of them. "Ready?" He asked softly, eyes flickering up to take in the multitude of nods he got in response. "Okay. Three, two, one…"

Light seared through his concious mind, crumbling it to pieces and leaving him floating in a sea of nothingness as his mind frantically tried to realign itself. Scenes flashed in the back of his mind, information overloading his senses until he finally adjusted to it and had the opportunity to process. 

_"You can't keep doing this, Kokichi."_

_"I can't keep doing what, Jiro-chan? You have to be more specific than that." Ouma asked innocently as he lay sprawled across the couch, arm thrown over his eyes. No matter how comfortable he was, his legs still ached with pain, no doubt from how much running he'd done to get away from the hoards. Idiots, all of them._

_"Kokichi."_

_Benjiro's voice was stern; a rare occurance. He reallly wanted to have this conversation, and have it seriously. Ouma sighed, lifting his arm and cracking an eye open to glance at the other, hovering near the couch. He wasn't wearing his afro, but he had recently dyed his cropped hair bright red to match it. He folded his arms, looking down at him with a worried frown. "You know they won't stop looking for you, right? The Ultimate Hunt is scary stuff, Ko, much scarier than any of us have had to deal with before."_

_"You kicking me out?" Ouma asked flatly, expression blank. He knew that wasn't the point Benjiro was trying to make, but he always had a habit of sugarcoating things and beating around the bush that he couldn't stand, so he wanted to hurry him up._

_Benjiro blanched, visibly aghast at the fact Ouma had suggested that. "Obviously not! But what I'm saying is that if the Hunt can figure out where the others live when you crashed with them, then it's only a matter of time until they find me. And then you'll have nowhere else to run, because you've exhausted your options. What'll you do then?"_

_His eyes raised to the ceiling above him, not wanting to see the spark of desperation in Benjiro's eyes, because it reminded him of how all the others had looked when he was forced to leave the safety of their homes because of the riots that formed on their doorsteps. "According to all the news outlets, none of the other Ultimates have been caught yet, and I really doubt all of them have nine seperate houses to fall back on. If they can survive, I can too."_

_"And then what? You keep running for the rest of your life and hope luck's on your side? If they capture you, you're as good as dead, you know that, right? No, it's a fate worse than death." He knew Benjiro was trying to keep composed, but he was ultimately failing. His voice was rising in volume, and was slowly tinged with hysteria. "We're worried about you! All of us are terrified for you," The hundreds of texts in both their group chat and his direct messages said as much, "and your life is basically on the line, but you don't seem to care! You act like you're already dead, like it's something inevitable-"_

_"Isn't it?" Ouma snorted, eyes still fixated on the ceiling above him. He focused on his slow breaths in and out._

_"Not this soon!" Benjiro snapped before the room was overtaken with a suffocating silence. Ouma didn't move. Benjiro took deep breaths as he calmed down. There had been a lot of suffocating silences between him and the others recently. It was uncomfortable to have the people he was closest to suddenly feel stiff. Stupid Ultimate Hunt._

_Eventually, Benjiro spoke up quietly, clearly not wanting to agitate a delicate situation any further. "Are you even considering it?"_

_Bitterness exploded in Ouma's chest._

_"Fuck you."_

_Benjiro sighed, but didn't say anything more._

_In the end, he was right to be worried. They all were. Because less than a month later, Ouma was out of options, dangerously close to being captured, and desperate._

_Leaning against the alley wall, breathing heavily and feeling each breath rattle up his throat, he fished a strip of paper out from his pocket. On it was a phone number, one that he had wanted to throw away for the longest time but never got around to doing._

_He guessed his last drop of luck went to making sure he didn't._

"Ultimate...Hunt?"

Ouma blinked away the spots lingering at the edges of his vision as he was reminded of where he was, suddenly aware of the floorboards underneath his feet once more. Akamatsu was the one who had spoken, and she appeared to be visibly shaken. Looking around, she wasn't the only one, and on an internal level, even Ouma could relate to that distress. It was more questions with even less answers, never mind the fact that the Flashback Light actually _worked._

"So...Gonta wasn't the only one who remembered the Ultimate Hunt?" Gonta asked carefully, wringing his hands together.

"Oh, you guys too?" Angie piped up, her smile somewhat lopsided as she hopped from foot to foot in a weak attempt to appear unbothered. 

"Yes, it seems that our memories are similar, at least in the fact that we were all being chased by that dreaded Ultimate Hunt." Shinguuji said, muffled slightly by the contemplative hand over his mouth. Even the anthropologist seemed to be frazzled over the experience.

Everyone exchanged looks of shock and disbelief as it registered that their memories were connected, at least by topic. It made sense, he supposed, that they had that in common, seeing as they were all in this killing game together. 

"Excuse me," Kiibo said suddenly, promptly breaking the stunned silence. He was fidgeting, with a look of vague embarrassment. "But do any of you remember what the Ultimate Hunt was, exactly? I can't seem to recall…"

"Really? You forgot something that important?" Iruma laughed, hands on her hips as a cocky grin appeared on her face. "Everyone knows what the Ultimate Hunt is! It's-" She stopped mid-sentence, distress flickering over her features as her expression withered. "Wait, hang on. The Ultimate fucking Hunt was, uh…"

"I can't remember." Saihara muttered quietly, curling further into himself. His hands were empty; Ouma realised he must have moved to set it on the stage earlier. 

"Me neither. Why- Why can't I remember?" Momota ran a hand over his hair, face contorted with panic regardless of any attempts to downplay his reaction. They were right, though. Anything outside of the memory of constantly being on the run, constantly looking over his shoulder and his persistent denial of his fear that transformed into apathy was lost to him. Despite knowing it was useless, he tried to remember any specific details about the Hunt, about why it had started or who started it but-

_"But I don't fucking want to-!"_

_"It's not about what you want, is it? A good leader has to-"_

He came up empty. 

Ouma willfully ignored the knots his stomach was attempting, turning to Harukawa as she sighed, the sound overwhelmingly bitter. "Nobody can remember any important details, so this was basically a waste of time, like I thought it'd be."

"I don't think it was a complete waste." Hoshi said with a hand in his pocket, the other reaching to adjust his hat. "It's not much, but it's something. We could figure something out."

"Okay then. Do you have something on your mind, Hoshi?" Amami asked as he folded his arms across his chest. He seemed somewhat detached from the discussion, and he belatedly realised that Amami hadn't said much throughout this encounter as a whole.

Hoshi grunted, looking away with something troubled on his face, and for a moment Ouma was worried he wouldn't tell them, but Hoshi wasn't the type to keep secrets. "It's strange, isn't it? We were all running from the Ultimate Hunt, but now we're trapped here. Why?"

"It _is_ strange. Why would we be here if we were trying to run away?" Gonta mused with a childish tilt of the head, and Ouma had a horrible, horrible feeling that he knew what the answer was. 

He wasn't the only one, as Tojo paled in horror as she announced their shared thought. "Unless this killing game is the product of the Ultimate Hunt."

He didn't think it was possible, yet the discomfort in the room managed to skyrocket even higher at the suggestion. Chabashira yelped, her posture stiffer than normal. "Wait, so you're saying that we were caught by the Ultimate Hunt, and that's why we're in this killing game?!"

"It would make the most sense, if we take our newly recovered memories into account." Kiibo hesitantly agreed, voicing what everyone knew was true.

Angie pouted, pulling her cardigan closer to her body in a subconcious attempt to protect herself. "What a very, very unfortunate conclusion to come to."

_"Unfortunate, indeed!"_

Several of his classmates flinched at the reappearance of that damned voice, and Ouma found himself glaring daggers at the bear in question from the safety behind his fringe. Monokuma was stood on the stage without a care in the world, bending to pick up the Flashback Light that Saihara had left. He let out a melodramatic sigh. "Your memories are a lot more stubborn than I thought! Looks like one use of the Flashback Light won't be enough for you to remember everything."

It was such a painfully obvious lie, so it was inevitable that he let out a mocking laugh. "Yeah, because you _totally_ didn't do that on purpose." He was ignored, but he didn't particularly mind when it was because of Amami's question.

"How are you connected to the Ultimate Hunt?"

"Hm? I can't just reveal that! I have to keep some secrets to myself." Monokuma tittered, probably amused by the various dirty glares he was recieving. "Anyway, does it really matter? Regardless of connections, my only desire is to watch you all kill each other in this thrilling killing game!"

And with that, he was gone, Flashback Light in tow.

"We're- Nobody's going to kill again! We're not playing this killing game!" Akamatsu huffed with her hands balled into fists, even though she didn't sound particularly convinced herself. 

It didn't matter though, because Momota was instantly spurred on by her resistance. "Yeah! As long as we all work together, we'll be able to escape!"

"Did you forget that one of you turds attempted murder, or are you just braindead?" Iruma hissed through bared teeth, and regrettably Ouma was following the same train of thought. It was cute and all, but the optimism being shoved down his throat wasn't exactly realistic, especially after what had happened. "No matter how much you chatter about working together, _clearly_ one of us cares about themselves enough to want to fucking backstab the rest of us!"

The tension in the room had changed. It wasn't the fear and anticipation that swept over them whenever Monokuma showed up; this was the tension that started to emerge when they tried to have any serious discussion about yesterday, or the time limit, charged with something dangerous that threatened to electrocute them all if they didn't tread carefully.

"And how do we know you're not the one we need to look out for?" Hoshi said, stern with a sharp stare. 

Iruma's face turned white at the accusation, and she began to sweat. "What kind of bullshit- I'd- I'd never do something like that!" Like most of her claims, it didn't sound particularly convincing.

Now, Ouma had managed to avoid this situation this morning, and while he _knew_ it was a bad idea to avoid it again, he didn't try to stop the impulse to open his mouth. "Yeah, well, whatever. We came here to figure out the mystery behind the Flashback Light and we did, so we're done here. I'm leaving and none of you are gonna stop me." His words came off a bit harsher than he had intended, but he didn't bother trying to rephrase them as he turned around and headed out.

True to his word, nobody stopped him.

* * *

After getting three copies of the latest machine parts catalogue consecutively from the MonoMono Machine, Ouma decided that the universe was demanding that he spend time with Kiibo. This worked out well, because Ouma had wanted to spend more time with him anyway. 

Alternatively, the universe could be demanding that he spend time with Iruma instead, but if that was the case then it wasn't being clear enough and he'd follow his own interpretation. It was fun to mess with Iruma, but there were people he'd actually like to get to know better. 

He found Kiibo at the side of the pool, peering down into the water. A smile bloomed on his face without him realising, and he didn't bother muting it as he came up behind the other, catalogue hidden behind his back. "Be careful! I don't want to have to deal with you falling into the water and short-circuiting."

Kiibo's shoulders tensed in surprise before he turned to face him with a huff, as if he wasn't smiling back. "Then I'm happy to tell you that that will never happen, because I happen to be fully waterproof."

"Aw geez, how am I supposed to stage an accident by shoving you into the pool now?" Ouma pouted, though when he noticed Kiibo's perturbed expression, he was quick to let out a light giggle. He didn't want a misunderstanding when _that_ was the topic. "Just kidding! You know I'd never do that to you, right, Kiiboy?"

"Well, I'd certainly hope that's the case." Kiibo regarded him with slight suspicion for a brief moment, but didn't seem annoyed or, worse, offended. It passed, and he shifted into curiosity. "Did you need me for something, Ouma-kun?" 

"What, I can't just want to spend time with my favourite robot?" He asked, mock offended with a hand over his chest, before grinning as he revealed his other hand, holding the catalogue. "But surprise! I have a gift for you, because I'm so _nice_ and all."

"From what I'm aware, I'm the only robot you know." He argued, and while he started off strong, his voice gradually quieted at the reveal, visibly shocked. He took a moment to respond, eventually accepting the gift. "You didn't have to." He murmured softly, flipping through the catalogue before he pressed his lips into a stern line, looking back up at him. "Though I hope you're aware that giving me such a stereotypical gift could have been considered robophobia, if it wasn't so practical."

The sudden shift in tone forced a bark of laughter out of him, caught off guard. "I wasn't aware of that at _all_ , I'm _so_ sorry." He lamented sarcastically, snorting at the glare he got back. He waltzed over to collapse into a pool chair, throwing his arms out in welcome. "But seriously, let's talk! I wanna get to know you, y'know?"

The preposition caught Kiibo's attention, and he suddenly seemed more interested. "Really?" He smiled slightly, going to sit down on the pool chair next to his own, sitting with a straight back as opposed to Ouma's reclined position. He set the catalogue down next to him, leaving his hand over it as Ouma nodded in confirmation. His smile grew. "Alright, so how did you-"

"Ah, ah, ah. I said I wanna know about you, not myself." Ouma tutted, pretending not to see the flash of disappointment on the other's face. He liked Kiibo, but that didn't mean he was going to spill anything personal. "You're a _robot._ That's super interesting, so tell me about yourself!"

His distraction worked perfectly. Kiibo's cheeks coloured with embarrassment even as a proud smile bloomed on his face. "If you insist, I suppose I'll humour you. Let me see." He paused, looking down with narrowed eyes as he tapped his chin, before looking up with bright eyes. "I'll start with my visual acuity, which is 20/13. Impressive, right?"

He snorted, folding his arms behind his head. "I mean, sure, but it's nothing compared to Gonta's supervision."

"Yes, well, it's better than average, isn't it?" Kiibo clarified quickly with a mini pout, visibly upset at the lack of awe. It was a cute expression, he absentmindedly thought.

"I mean, I don't know much about visual acuity, so you're asking the wrong person here." Ouma smiled, tipping his head to the side as he watched him with lazy eyes. "What other brilliant features do you have?"

The robot hesitated, before holding a hand out towards him. "May I have your hand, please?"

"How romantic! I didn't take you as someone who would be so forward, Kiiboy." Ouma cooed with a flutter of his eyelashes, but still accepted his hand. Kiibo, meanwhile, became flustered and looked like he was willing to let the ground swallow him whole as he shot him a glare. 

His touch was light as he lifted his hand to his mouth which- yeah, wasn't exactly the direction Ouma was expecting things to go. After a moment, he was surprised by the feeling of warm breath washing over his fingertips, and had to fight the impulse to jerk his hand away. The warmth was pleasant, but wholly unexpected, on account of Kiibo being a _robot_ and not having a need to breathe.

"Realistic, isn't it?" Kiibo looked at him expectantly, waiting for praise with an excited smile as he lowered his hand again. "My breath also acts as a dryer, if needed."

"It's realistic, I'll give you that much." Ouma said with a lopsided smile, watching Kiibo glow with pride. He didn't point out that his hand was still settled gently in Kiibo's gloved own, but unfortunately, he noticed himself and hastily dropped the handhold with a flushed face, looking away. Not particularly happy with the sudden lapse in conversation, Ouma took it upon himself to stretch like a languid cat and exaggerate a yawn. "But don't you have any more unique features? Jets under your feet, or laser eyes, or something?"

Kiibo didn't react well, readjusting the ends of his sleeves as his expression changed into discomfort. "I don't like sci-fi functions like flight, or lasers. Certainly not weapons, especially not in a situation like this." He murmured, eyes downcast. "I have an audio recording function, if that interests you."

Ouma could concede that having built-in weapons wasn't favourable in their current circumstance, but he couldn't understand why he wouldn't want more exciting functions. He tucked the knowledge of his audio recording function away for later consideration as he frowned. "But some of those sci-fi things would be fun, wouldn't it?"

"Perhaps but…" Kiibo seemed to be uncertain, still avoiding looking in his direction as his voice became even quieter. "Professor Iidabashi designed me to be as human as possible. I'm the sum total of his life's work. I know he'd accept any requests I may have but...I think it would be unfair of me to stray from his original plans when I'm content as I am."

A pregnant pause followed as Ouma digested this new information. Something clicked in his mind. The reason why Kiibo was so proud of his mundane features, so desperate for praise, so against the idea of anything sci-fi - it wasn't out of anything narcissistic (not that he had truly thought that to begin with). It was because Kiibo _knew_ Iidabashi considered him his masterpiece, and wanted people to recognise his father's brilliance for creating him in the first place. He wanted to do him proud.

And wasn't that such a human thought?

Kiibo was becoming increasingly fidgety the longer the silence stretched, and Ouma decided to put him out of his misery. He sat up properly, heaving a sigh and more than aware of Kiibo's gaze on him as he murmured back. "Well, if it's any consolation, I think he succeeded. You act just as human as the rest of us. If it wasn't for how robotic you look, I wouldn't be able to tell the difference most of the time."

Their eyes finally met, Kiibo seemingly searching for something. Content with what he did or didn't find, a soft smile rose on his face, full of gratitude and something inherently emotional. "Thank you, Ouma-kun." He whispered, even the green of his eyes gentler than normal.

Ouma allowed them a moment of repose before sighing dramatically and getting to his feet, throwing his arms in the air. "I'm bored!" He complained loudly, before turning to Kiibo with a sharp smile. "Enough talk! Let's do something. Got any ideas?"

Kiibo rolled his eyes and he followed suit, standing up and collecting the catalogue. "We could go to the casino, if you'd like?"

"Good choice! C'mon, I've got money to waste." He motioned for Kiibo to hurry up as he jogged around the pool to the exit. 

And if the memory of that smile helped lull Ouma to sleep that night, well, that was purely coincidence. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters in one week?? it's a goddamn miracle!! This chapter can be appropriately summed up as Ouma Ruining Momota and Iruma's Lives with a side of Actual Plot and Kiibo Time
> 
> Speaking of Kiibo, he won in a landslide in the FTE poll so it's nice to know everyone's opinion on the matter. I see you guys eyeing the relationship tag. You're all going to love the next few chapters ;)
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I'll see you next chapter!!


	11. 2.3 : Somber Conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tablet mysteriously appears in his dorm room, and a controversial opinion bubbles in Ouma's mind, desperate for a convincing solution.

Finding something on his table that was definitely _not_ there the night before and getting a subsequent shot of paranoia wasn't exactly how Ouma wanted to spend his early morning, yet here he was. 

He blamed grogginess for his ability to go through his entire morning routine before noticing the tablet on his table. When he did, he stared at it for a few unblinking moments before immediately going to check his door.

Locked, like he left it last night.

The morning announcement began to play as he went back to actually inspect the foreign object, cautiously holding it with two hands. The announcement itself faded into background noise as he noted that the tablet was nearly identical in design to his Monopad, except for the fact that this one had a vibrant paint design casing and the lettering on the back read 'Kubs Pad'. 

He refocused on the announcement just in time to register that the Kubs Pad was, predictably, the Monokubs' doing. It didn't make him feel particularly hopeful as to the reason he got it, but his need for answers won out. Sitting down on his bed with a huff, he touched the tablet's screen with a finger. 

It lit up, showing brightly coloured text over a darker background. It read 'Kiibo's Motive Video', and as soon as he processed the words, his heart dropped to his stomach. Monokuma's voice began playing through the speakers, somehow sounding even more unbearable than usual. Ouma grimaced.

_"Alright, the moment you've all been waiting for! It's time for a motive video! Who's the most important person in your life, I wonder? And now, without further ado…"_

The image on screen changed, now showing the inside of a workshop of sorts. It looked like it was taken from Kiibo's perspective, as his arm was sticking into the frame from behind the camera, bare with a panel slid back to reveal a variety of wires. The focal point, however, was clearly the man holding his arm, one hand supporting his forearm while the other rested on his wrist. He appeared to be in his mid-fifties with greying hair, glasses sitting comfortably on the bridge of his nose. He had a soothing smile and gentle green eyes that crinkled at the edges, and the image held such a fond warmth despite the professional setting that it made Ouma's heart ache. 

_"Kiibo, the Ultimate Robot. This remarkable piece of tech has his Ultimate title for his impressive autonomous AI, and his ability to show humanity. And he has all that to thank Professor Iidabashi for, his 'father' as well as the most important person in his life. Our team has managed to get an exclusive interview with the man himself!"_

The tone was sickeningly sweet, oozing mockery, and Ouma felt his grip tighten on the edges of the Kubs Pad in anticipation. The screen transitioned again, this time showing the same man from before, Iidabashi, sitting in an armchair. He was noticeably frazzled, his hair slightly unkempt and his glasses askew. He was leant forward, elbows resting on his knees with his fingers laced together. He looked, for all intents and purposes, like a man with the world weighing down on his shoulders. 

_"Kiibo, no matter where you are, don't lose hope. Be careful and think rationally. Take care of yourself."_

Iidabashi had a low, silvery voice that was offset by the undercurrent of worry seeping into his every word. His lips quirked upwards into a small smile that didn't reach his eyes.

_"And make sure you come back to me in one piece, alright? That's the most important thing, so if nothing else, remember that. That's all I need from you."_

Ouma sucked in a breath through his teeth as the screen dimmed, gritting them as Monokuma's voice returned.

_"Did you hear that? Straight from the source itself: all his father wants is for his precious Kiibo to make it out in one piece. Will his wish be granted?"_

He sounded condescending, as if he was trying to goad the listener into doing something they might regret. No, that was _exactly_ what he was doing.

_"But- uh oh! As it turns out, shortly after our interview, something tragic happened to this nerd. What was it?"_

Monokuma popped up, radiating malice from beyond the screen.

_"You'll have to find out for yourself!"_

And with his obnoxious cackles ringing in his ears, the screen went blank. Ouma set it down on the bed beside him as he pulled one hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. Ignoring the contents of the video itself, it was very obvious that, while it may be a motive, it certainly wasn't directed towards him. It had irritated him, but not to the extent of considering murder, because he had no personal connection to it. If it wouldn't affect him, then why did he get it? The motive was designed for Kiibo, not him; if _he_ had watched this, he might have felt compelled to kill someone to get out. 

At least, he might if he kept his worry to himself, letting it fester inside him.

But he hadn't. Instead, Ouma had. Was it a mistake? Or had the bears thought that knowing someone else's reasons for murder might increase paranoia? 

He groaned, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. It was safe to guess that if they were doing specialised motives this time around, everyone else got a motive video too. An important discussion was on the horizon, and despite the fact that everyone hated them, it would really be in their best interest to get it over with. Knowing that, Ouma left the room, the Kubs Pad waiting for their decision on his mattress.

He was greeted by an underlying tension and the sizzle of cooking from the kitchen when he reached the dining hall, around half of the class absent. Kiibo was part of the number that wasn't there, and he wasn't sure if he was relieved or not as he sat down next to Angie, greeting everyone with a question. "So are we gonna talk about the creepy motive videos, or is this another 'shut up and ignore it' situation?"

"Kiibo-kun and Momota-kun went to round everyone up so we could talk about them." Akamatsu replied from across the table, her smile tinged with nervousness as she silently tapped the pads of her fingertips over the table. Ouma couldn't blame her, seeing as a new motive only meant one thing. Just because he had known better than to hope for that to be the end of it didn't mean nobody else had.

"It's weird though, isn't it?" Angie said, resting her chin in her hands, elbows propped up on the table. She was smiling, keeping up her usual chipper act. "I woke up to find the Kubs Pad, but the motive video on it isn't mine. What's the reason for that? Even Atua is stumped!"

"It's certainly a strange choice." Shinguuji sat on Angie's other side, wrists resting on the table and looking generally unbothered, if not slightly curious. Ouma couldn't judge him too harshly either, considering the fact that he was projecting a similar casual air. "While I can, unfortunately, understand the purpose of the motive videos, the purpose is negated if not given to the one the video addresses."

"Come on, guys, hang on for a few minutes." Amami sat reclined in his chair with an easy smile, and while Ouma specifically looked for any hints of anything amiss like the morning before, he found nothing. He supposed it wasn't too far-fetched to believe the other had reconciled with whatever was bothering him but he wasn't sure he _did_ believe it. "Wait for the others to get here so you don't have to repeat yourselves."

And wait, they did. It only took a few more minutes at most, but to Ouma, bored out of his mind, they might as well have been eternity. Amami and Shinguuji were having their usual, boring morning conversation, and Akamatsu had gotten up to help Tojo with setting the table, despite the maid's insistence that she didn't need help. Angie had asked him to play rock paper scissors and, ever the game fanatic, he had readily agreed. They had set out some terms (if Angie won, he would join her for prayer time, and if Ouma won, she'd help him prank Momota) and began an endless cycle of rounds, because Angie kept extending a game that Ouma had rigged from the start.

It was after their thirtieth round that the crowd of missing classmates entered, Kiibo and Momota leading them. The robot smiled as the others brushed past him to sit down. "Thank you for waiting, everyone!" Iruma plopped down into the empty seat next to him and, slightly disappointed that Kiibo was now unable to sit beside him, Ouma politely flipped her off. She returned the gesture, sticking her tongue out in retaliation and it was childish enough that he allowed her a small grin.

"Please allow me to serve breakfast, before we discuss the matter at hand." Tojo said as she emerged from the kitchen with a pot of tea, setting it down on the table to allow the others to pass it around. Seeing as nobody really wanted to talk about the motive videos immediately, it didn't take much convincing for everyone to agree, but they sat in a tense silence as a result. While they agreed to start the real conversation later, nobody dared to say a word to fill the space until Tojo sat down.

"So what's the situation?" Amami broke the silence as he picked up his chopsticks, confronting the elephant in the room before anyone else could distract them. Ouma wondered if he was just fed up with their general inability to effectively communicate and make decisions with each other.

"Basically, we all found motive videos in our dorms this morning, yeah?" Momota said, all seriousness even as he dug into his food. Ouma himself found it easier to wait until the conversation was over to start eating, letting his cup of tea hold him over.

"The tablet was a motive video?" Harukawa asked with a frown, eyes on her food as she idly pushed it around on her plate.

"Yeah, it said so at the beginning of the video." The movement was subtle, but he could see Chabashira shifting nervously in her seat. "Did- Did you not watch it?"

Harukawa glanced up, raising a single, disdainful eyebrow at the rest of them. "No, I didn't. I figured it was something stupid anyway, and I didn't want to waste my time."

"Really? Weren't you curious?" Gonta furrowed his eyebrows in an innocent show of confusion, but Harukawa didn't indulge him with a verbal response, simply shaking her head with visible disinterest.

"More importantly, they were mixed up, right?" Hoshi muttered between bites of food, successfully redirecting the conversation to its intended course. "Why is that, do you think?"

"Could it be a mistake? I don't know how organised the bears are, but they don't _seem_ to be too coordinated." Akamatsu suggested with a small frown, tapping her chopsticks to her bottom lip in contemplation.

"Does it fucking matter?" Iruma groaned, slumping back against her chair as she set her own set of chopsticks back down with a sharp clink. "We're gonna be exchanging them anyway, right?"

"No, I don't think that's a good idea." Kiibo responded so quickly, it was as if he had been waiting for the idea to be brought up, just so he could shut it down. In fact, Ouma was tempted to say he was, seeing as he had been fidgeting the entire time. 

Iruma, never one to accept being contradicted even though she was often in the wrong, straightened with a huff. "Eh? And why the hell not?" 

"Because while we may not know why they were mixed up, if we don't exchange them, we'll never have to see our motives at all." Kiibo explained with that unwavering confidence he occasionally adopted and, giving it a moment of thought, Ouma could understand why he reached that conclusion.

"So we should...ignore the motive video?" Gonta asked, a hybrid of uncertainty and hope flickering across his face. 

"That makes sense!" Akamatsu smiled, lacking all the uncertainty Gonta had. "The motive videos can't affect us if we don't watch them."

"Yes, yes! Ignoring the motive videos will mean that no murders will occur, and then we can all live together in peace." Angie, for lack of a better word, gushed at the prospect, clapping her hands together as she beamed.

"Sure, I guess, but you guys do realise that Monokuma still exists, right?" Ouma said with a mocking smile, to avoid everyone rushing to one conclusion without considering the negatives. "If the motive videos fail, he probably has some other messed up trick up his sleeve to get someone killed."

"It is true that Monokuma most likely has an alternative prepared for if the motives fail." Tojo sighed, pouring herself a cup of tea. She set the teapot down before elaborating. "In that case, it may not be wise to outright ignore the videos, as that may cause him to act out sooner."

"That aside, we all know that the motive videos are about the most important people in our lives, right?" Hoshi's face seemed to darken as he looked up from his food with a barely hidden grimace. "Don't you think that people might become curious about that?"

"I _am_ pretty curious about who would be in my video." Chabashira admitted as she fidgeted with her fingers, before steeling herself, determination taking over her posture. "But- But if we watch the videos, then we could be affected by the motive! It's just like Akamatsu-san said!"

"Well, it was Kiibo-kun's idea initially, not mine." Akamatsu added sheepishly, to which Chabashira made a so-so gesture, not interested in the details. 

"Yeah, but we know that they're motives." Momota pointed out, rubbing at his goatee like he was some sort of intellectual. "If we know they're supposed to be provoking us, we should be able to watch our own videos because we know we shouldn't fall for it."

"Easier said than done." Amami chuckled, leaning forward. The movement cast a shadow over his eyes. "Monokuma is crafty. I have no doubt that he would target things that would be devestating for some of us. The videos might not all be equal in severity, plus it depends on individual willpower. You can't say we'd all be able to just shrug it off."

Momota, despite clearly wanting to, had no retort. Amami was right; the probability of the motive video working depending entirely on the individual. Ouma understood this, but he also had a feeling that ignoring them outright, like Kiibo suggested, would end with someone feeling too restless and sneaking around behind their backs. There had to be a way around it, he just had to pinpoint what it was and convince everyone.

"How about a compromise?" Saihara suggested quietly as the silence began to stretch, hands folded in his lap. "If we all exchanged motive videos, it would be up to you if you wanted to see your motive video or not. Not everything has to be a group decision." Ouma acknowledged that the suggestion was the easiest and most effective way of dealing with the problem at hand, but part of him disliked the uncertainty of it. Nobody would know who'd seen their motive videos, so if a murder occured-

He was getting ahead of himself. This was especially true, because it seemed that Kiibo wasn't overly fond of the compromise either, responding with a light frown. "No, we need to come to a collective decision. By allowing some of us to see our motives, it becomes more likely for a murder to occur. It would be in our best interests to abstain." Ouma found it odd to see Kiibo so stubborn about this; he always seemed like the type to being open for discussion, at least.

"And if people are curious enough to ignore a collective decision to abstain and watch their motives?" Hoshi huffed, wearing a frown of his own as he crossed his arms. "You're putting too much faith in our resolve. There must be ways to stop a murder from happening that don't involve completely abstaining."

"It seems that a compromise would be impossible, with how steadfast some of us are." Shinguuji commented, before sighing with a shake of his head. "Such is the way of humanity, both beautiful and tragic."

"Ignoring Freakshow over there, have we figured out what we're gonna do about this bullshit or what?" Iruma complained loudly, eyeing them all with irritation. "I have better shit to do than sitting here, doing nothing."

"Gonta isn't sure." He said softly, biting his lip. "He thought that watching the motive video would be bad, but he does want to know what it says."

"Maybe we should all abstain for now, and if we come up with any better ideas, we can share them later?" Akamatsu proposed after a moment of thought, offering a small, encouraging smile. Ouma had a feeling she, like most of the class, just wanted to come to a conclusion already.

Kiibo hesitated, before returning the smile, finally relenting. "That sounds like a good plan, Akamatsu-san."

"Yeah, that works!" Momota agreed with a firm nod, pushing away his now empty place. 

"Then are we all in agreement?" Tojo asked, finishing off her cup of tea and regarding the empty plates, presumably bothered by the clutter or otherwise planning on cleaning them up.

They were in agreement, if the muttered ripple of concord meant anything. Though it didn't feel like it, the situation was decidedly settled, so Ouma picked up his chopsticks and finally began to eat while some of the others began to file out. 

Glancing over at Angie, who was pouring herself another cup of tea, he remembered their unsettled business. He leaned over to her, and responded to her inquisitive look with an impish grin, which was something that didn't bode well for anyone. 

"Sooo...I'm pretty sure I won, which means you have to hold up your end of the deal."

Angie pouted, but didn't complain.

* * *

The MonoMono Machine spat out a bright pink compass today.

Ouma thought it was a pointless item, considering they were stuck in a dome and therefore a compass would be useless, but he remembered Amami mentioning that he liked to travel. Maybe he could give this to him to help him feel less claustrophobic or something. Mind made up, he stuffed the compass into his pocket and set off. 

As it turns out, Amami was hard to find when he didn't want to be found. He was starting to get restless, and considered giving up on finding him despite having nothing better to do, when he ran into Hoshi sitting on the front steps of the main building. 

"Hey, Hoshi-chan!" Ouma said with a friendly smile, stopping beside him on the step and causing Hoshi to look up at him with muted curiosity. "Do you know where Amami-chan is?"

Hoshi's eyes were dark as he looked away, returning to mindlessly observing the courtyard. "I'm not sure. Have you checked his dorm room?"

He hadn't, and Ouma admitted as much as he snapped his fingers. "That's a good idea!" He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, but didn't leave immediately, instead tilting his head to one side. "You okay, though? You're more brooding than usual."

Hoshi snorted humorlessly, leaning back against the steps but not bothering to look back at him. "You think so?" He sighed, shaking his head. "I'll admit it to you, because you probably won't freak out over it as much as some of the others might. But in all honesty, I don't plan on surviving this."

And chillingly enough, he _was_ being honest. Ouma didn't detect any hint of falsehood from his words. Still, Hoshi didn't necessarily want an honest response from him, seeing as he had told him explicitly because he believed he wouldn't have an extreme reaction, so he kept his expression controlled. He wasn't sure if Hoshi thought he wouldn't have a reaction because of his control in serious situations, or because he thought he didn't genuinely care, but he didn't want to unpack those possibilities when he had something this delicate to deal with. "Yeah, I bet some of the others would shove hope down your throat if you said that in front of them." He said lightly, to ease himself back into the conversation.

Hoshi seemed amused, at least. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

"I mean, it's your opinion and life, I guess." Oums continued, looking off in the distance without any focus as he rocked back and forth on his heels. "But I'd kinda prefer it if you did try to survive, at least. I mean, giving up now basically means you've lost the game, because you lose the opportunity of things getting any better, y'know? And I don't know about you, but I hate losing." It wasn't anything particularly motivating or encouraging in his eyes, but Ouma was out of his depth and he didn't want to disturb an already unstable situation.

"I guess." Hoshi mumbled wistfully, hunching into himself. After a moment, he offered him a half smile. "Don't worry about me, kid." 

The conversation seemed to end there, and Ouma wasn't going to press any further, so he let Hoshi be. Hopefully, someone else would be able to cheer him up, but that person didn't seem to be him. He waved goodbye before taking off towards the dorms. 

Ouma only had to wait a few moments after he rang the intercom for Amami to answer the door with a quizzical expression. Ouma beamed, waving excessively in greeting. "Amami-chan! Wanna hang out? I've got something I wanna show you."

Amami smiled, quirking an eyebrow in mockery even as his eyes showed genuine interest. "Is it another present?"

"That's something for me to know, and for you to find out." Ouma teased, hands on his hips as he raised his own eyebrow in challenge. "So?"

He laughed as he stepped out of his dorm, closing the door behind him. "Guess I have no choice. How about we go sit outside? The pergola would be a nice place to sit and talk."

Ouma agreed and a short walk later (in which he realised Hoshi was no longer on the school steps), he found himself sat at the picnic bench under the pergola, surrounded by a comfortable crown of wisterias. Amami settled down across from him as Ouma hummed. "While we're here, do you still want any help with guessing your talent, or have you had any enlightenment recently?"

He laughed, stretching his legs out slowly beneath the table and nearly kicking Ouma in the calves. "I'd take any guesses, if you have them."

Ouma, in retaliation, stretched his legs out to intentionally knock against his knees with enough force to be annoying, and grinned mischievously when Amami pulled a face upon impact. "Yeah, no, sorry to disappoint, I have nothing off the top of my head."

Amami propped his elbow on the table, waving him off with a hum. "It's fine. I have a guess of my own, actually." He laced his fingers together, rings clicking at the movement, and Ouma leaned forward in an exaggerated show of intrigue to encourage him to continue. "Could it be possible that I don't have an Ultimate talent at all?"

Whatever he had been expecting, that hadn't been it. Ouma stared at him blankly for a few moments, before snorting in disbelief and pinching the bridge of his nose. "Wait, wait, wait- what about the Ultimate Hunt then? Did you see something different from the Flashback Light?" The prospect made him uncomfortable, if only because that meant that Amami would have continued to keep that fact to himself if Ouma hadn't asked to hang out. 

"No, I think I saw the same sort of stuff as you guys." Amami explained carefully, fiddling with his rings. "I remembered the Ultimate Hunt too, but seeing as there was nothing that indicated any sort of talent, I thought it was possible that I was being hunted by mistake, or something like that." He let out an awkward laugh, gaze wandering to observe the surroundings. Ouma noted that he was telling the truth, from what he could tell, which was equally relieving as it was strange, because it came off like such a flimsy excuse. "I'm not sure how, but maybe I look similar to an Ultimate and got mistaken for them? That feels like an easier explanation than trying to figure out why only I can't remember my talent."

"You're right about that." Ouma agreed with a sigh, because even if they _did_ figure out Amami's talent, it was true that it would still be suspicious that he was the only one to forget his. But while the knowledge of Amami's newest speculation was interesting, he really didn't have anything to add, so he let out a loud groan in faux distress. "Don't worry about such trivial things Amami-chan, we have other, much bigger things to worry about!"

For a moment, he was worried that his attempted transition was a bit too controversial, and they'd end up in killing game discussion, but Amami was flawless in his reception. "Like the thing you were going to show me?" He asked with a teasing edge, relaxing back into their usual banter.

"Exactly!" Ouma exclaimed with a grand sweep of his arms, happy to take this as his cue to start humming dramatic build-up music as he retrieved the compass from his pocket. He presented it to him with a flourish. "Tada!"

Amami's eyebrows rose in surprise as he reached out to accept the compass. "This for me?" He asked offhandedly, more interested in inspecting the look and feel of the compass. 

"Who else would it be for?" He snarked with a smirk, resting his chin in his palm. Amami gave him a flat look, contradicting the upward curl of his lip, until Ouma let out a small gasp and dug into his pocket to hand him the piece of paper that came with the compass. "Oh, yeah! It came with this too, so you'll probably want to give it a read or something."

Amami took it with the hand that wasn't holding the compass, furrowing his eyebrows as he began to read it. "Earnest Compass, huh?" Ouma hummed an agreement, watching as the other read the explanation printed on the slip of paper. Something in his face changed, neither softening or hardening, but instead something that made him look extremely worn.

He could feel the conversation shift into something more serious again to accommodate, and Ouma begrudgingly realised that he may as well give up the hope of experiencing the same lighthearted tea party scenario like he had a few days prior.

A minute passed where nothing was said between them, before Amami sighed and set the compass down. He shot Ouma a tired smile, leaning back. "I hate being here. I know it's the same for everyone else, but somehow it feels even worse, not knowing _why_ we're really here."

Alright. So they _were_ going to talk about the situation, after all. Cool. That was definitely something he wanted to do in his free time. Ouma folded his arms on the table, leaning down to prop his chin on them instead as he stared through the messy strands of his fringe. "I mean, you could say we're here because of the killing game."

Amami made an unsatisfied noise at the back of his throat at this point, eyes returning to the compass like a magnet. "I guess you could, yeah. But…" He seemed to reconsider what he was about to say and, much to Ouma's chagrin, decided against it with a subtle shake of his head before continuing. "I feel like I'm wasting time, being stuck in here."

Ouma clicked his tongue in thought, turning his head to rest his cheek on his arms instead of his chin. "Everyone feels the same way. I don't think anyone is thrilled to be wasting precious time stuck in a huge dome, let alone the fact that we're in constant danger." Amami winced slightly, seemingly noticing his mistake. "But I dunno. Maybe you're particularly claustrophobic because you're used to travelling a lot?" It was why he had chosen to gift him the compass in the first place, after all. Considering the change in Amami's demeanor once receiving it, he wondered if he regretted that choice or not.

"Well, that's part of the problem, I'll admit." Amami chuckled, a sound lacking in his usual warmth, and he noticed that he had picked up the compass again, now cradling it in the palms of his hands. "But that's not why I hate being stuck here so much." He paused again, another moment of consideration as his gaze gradually raised to meet his. "You mentioned earlier that you had a brother, right? Is that true?"

Ouma frowned, not exactly sure why that was relevant to Amami's supposed inner turmoil. Even so, he could recognise the tone of the conversation and followed along, giving a mostly honest answer due to the fact that he liked Amami enough to do so. "An older brother, who's not actually dead, and a younger brother and sister." He whispered, not a lie but not the full truth either; they weren't siblings by blood, and by the classification he was following, he had more siblings than that, but those were the ones he usually considered as siblings specifically, as opposed to generic family. 

Amami's eyes softened at his admission, his edges seeming to melt before his eyes. "Then you know what it's like, to want nothing more than to be there for them, to protect them. Right?"

"If there was anything in this world that I'd die for, it's them." Ouma answered, even quieter than before as he realised what Amami was implying. "The reason you hate being stuck here isn't because of limited space or the fact that your life is in danger. It's because you miss them, and you can't help them if you're here. You want to escape for them."

(And a traitorous part of his mind cried that if Amami would truly die for his siblings like Ouma would die for DICE, then wasn't it possible that he would be just as willing to sacrifice them all to be able to return to them? If he saw his motive video, like Ouma had wanted them all to do, might he have felt compelled? Would talking things out really help de-escalate that possibility?

And despite that, he knew he would still rather risk it in exchange for everyone's curiosity being sated and figuring it out from there than not know at all.)

Amami's smile was bittersweet, and Ouma didn't need to hear confirmation to know his guess was right.

"Don't you?"

* * *

After the whole fiasco with Amami, Ouma decided he had his fill of serious conversations and desperately needed to unwind. Isolating himself was a no go, because his alone time usually devolved to contemplation surrounding their situation and what he should do about it, which he didn't particularly want to do at the moment. That left his only option as seeking one of his classmates out for distraction, and considering the spare catalogues in his dorm room, he already knew exactly who he wanted to spend time with.

Kiibo was browsing some of the books in the library this afternoon. Apparently, he wasn't particularly interested in any of them. Apparently, he wasn’t particularly invested in any of them, because he looked up when the door opened, effectively crushing Ouma’s chance of sneaking up on him. He slid the book he was flipping through back onto the shelf, wearing a faint smile. “Hello, Ouma-kun. Are you looking for something to read?”

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.” Ouma said with a challenging tilt of the head, before bouncing over to peek over the robot’s shoulder. “What are you looking at- oh, manga! Weird, I don’t recognise any of these titles.” He scrutinised the printed titles for a moment longer before shrugging, choosing not to dwell on it and stepping back to flash a grin. “Anyway, you liked the catalogue I got you yesterday, right?”

Kiibo turned away from the bookshelf to look at him with furrowed eyebrows, visibly confused. "I appreciated the gift, yes. Why?"

"Well," Ouma drawled, leaning back as he revealed the catalogue from behind his back. He feigned nonchalance as he held the present out towards him, fixing his hair with his free hand. "I actually got another from the MonoMono Machine so I thought you might like it."

Kiibo reached out to take the catalogue with a pensive expression that Ouma didn't think was warranted. It was a repeat gift, there wasn't exactly much to think about. It seemed his companion disagreed, because while Kiibo did accept the catalogue, he didn't give it much of a second glance before looking to meet his eyes with a smile. "You know that you don't have to bribe me into spending time with you, right? For the most part, I do enjoy spending time with you."

"What?" Ouma deadpanned, completely thrown for a second as he yanked his scarf high enough to hide the flush of embarrassment he could feel on his face. He laughed as it caught up to him, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead. "Please, Kiiboy, if I was gonna bribe you, I'd be using _much_ nicer presents than just a couple catalogues. I just happened to have a few extra, and because I'm not interested in them, I gave them to you! You shouldn't read into things too much."

"I suppose." Kiibo didn't sound convinced; if anything, he seemed amused. He shuffled past him and sat down against one of the bookshelves, opening the catalogue and setting it down on his lap. The catalogue itself seemed to be mostly for show, because Kiibo ignored it in favour of looking up at him. "I'll only spend time with you today on one condition."

"Making threats? I guess you really are an advanced robot, huh?" Ouma teased, taking his sceptre out of its holster before sliding down into a seated position beside Kiibo. "What condition?"

As soon as he asked, determination solidified on Kiibo's face. "As I've already talked about myself, I believe it should be your turn to tell me more about you." Ouma had to suppress a grimace at the idea. "I don't know much about you, but I'd like to get to know you better."

"Yeah?" Ouma raised an eyebrow, putting his sceptre down beside him as he slumped against the bookshelves, which turned out to be an unsurprisingly uncomfortable position. "Anything specific you want to know about, or is this just a free-for-all?"

Kiibo's eyes lit up at the question, most likely happy that he was allowing him to request information from him. "If you don't mind, could you tell me more about your underground organisation? It's fascinating to me, but I don't know anything about it aside from what you told me when we first met."

Ouma didn't particularly want to share anything about himself, especially not his organisation, but he also wasn't going to tell Kiibo that, because he didn't want to risk being asked why. Instead, he clicked his tongue, folding his arms over his chest. "I mean, I'd love to, but I'm the Ultimate Youth Leader. I can't publicly talk about an underground organisation I obviously don't have."

"But you're not." Kiibo said bluntly, before a small smile curled onto his face. "And we're alone, at the moment. I don't believe sound travels through the doors, and they're heavy enough that anyone opening them would be easy to notice. Surely you can humour me, just this once."

Ouma's gaze involuntarily flickered over to said doors, before groaned and gave in. "Fiiine." He folded his arms behind his head, leaning into it as he hummed in consideration. Naturally, he ended up letting a lie unfold instead of saying anything remotely close to the truth. That would be the best compromise, after all. "Alright, so basically, my organisation runs the world from behind the scenes."

"Really? That sounds like an impossibility, especially without anyone else knowing about it." Kiibo butted in, skepticism dripping from his words. Ouma usually didn't mind his doubtful interruptions; he enjoyed them, even. However, he did wish, in this instance, that he let him provide some exposition first. 

"It's all about subtlety." Ouma said, emphasising the final word as he settled for a sly grin, watching Kiibo with lazy eyes. "For example, all the world's mafia syndicates are under my control, but they don't know that. I prevent turf wars by having undercover subordinates manipulate the situation to my plans. The same goes for the government, though that's a bit more complicated. Politicians never wanna listen unless you show them all the life-ending blackmail you have on them, y'know?"

In full honesty, Ouma was having a lot of fun. Telling harmless yet complex lies was a fun activity, and Kiibo's reactions were more than an added bonus. He frowned, expression vaguely pinched in thought. "While that does explain how your organisation has remained underground despite its claimed reach, I still find it hard to believe you could be single handedly running the world."

Ouma sighed heavily, arms moving to stretch out before him as he allowed himself a look of reminiscence. "Yeah, it wouldn't be possible without all my loyal followers. With over ten thousand, it becomes pretty easy to deal with everything as long as you're good at management."

"With over ten thousand members, I suppose it could be possible." Kiibo mused quietly, looking to be very focused on considering the likelihood and legitimacy of Ouma ruling the world. He came to his conclusion, sighing. "I'm sorry, Ouma-kun, but I still can't fully believe you. It seems like too outlandish of a situation."

"Most people do say that." Ouma nodded with a snort, hands falling to settle in his lap. While he could easily continue running with this lie, he felt like now was a good point to move on from. "Don't think about it too hard, Kiiboy. Stress is bad for the baby."

Kiibo yelped, blinking in quick succession. "Baby? What baby? I thought we were the only ones here."

Ouma giggled into his scarf, sitting up suddenly and pushing an accusatory finger into Kiibo's face. "It's you. _You're_ the baby." Considering how clueless and pure he acted, it wasn't a completely incorrect statement.

Kiibo didn't agree, and his responding distress, paired with his wide eyes, was genuinely hilarious. "I'm- I'm not a baby?!"

Ouma stuck out his tongue between his grinning teeth. "Might as well be with all the whining you do!" He teased, nothing but playful.

"Hey!"

* * *

"Momota-chaaan!"

Finally catching the astronaut walking away from Harukawa's lab, Ouma ran over to him with crocodile tears welling in his eyes. Momota looked up in surprise, almost falling over with the force of Ouma's tackle, barely bracing his left foot. He reached his hands out, placing them on his shoulders to steady him.

"Hey, what the hell, man?" He might have been angry, if he wasn't tricked by Ouma's sniffles, so the exclamation came out half hearted and vaguely concerned. He looked up at him with big eyes, fidgeting with his oversized sleeves. 

"Gonta- Gonta thought he saw a bug, so he tried to reach under a tree to grab it, but his hair got tangled in the branches and now he's stuck!" He blabbered in one breath, tears clinging to his lashes as he reached out to tug at the jacket sleeve Momota was actually wearing like a child. "I tried to untangle him myself but I wasn't able to do it, and I went to get help but you're the only person I could find. _Please_ , Momota-chan!"

"Chill, Ouma." Momota went to unlatch his fingers from his sleeve with a smile despite his slight discomfort, and Ouma complied with a small pout, exaggerating the wobble of his bottom lip so it rushed Momota's response. "Obviously, I'll help out. That's the heroic thing to do!"

Hook, line and sinker. Ouma blinked away his tears slowly, making sure they didn't dissipate too quickly so it didn't cause suspicion, as a small, hopeful smile surfaced. "Really?"

"Yeah! I'm the Luminary of the Stars, after all!" Momota grinned, thumping his fist to his chest. "So don't cry, okay? I'll take care of it, just lead me to the problem." He knew that Momota's optimistic, shounen way of speaking endeared him to certain people, but Ouma himself wasn't particularly fond of flowery language directed towards himself in such a serious manner. 

They began walking, Ouma pulling his scarf up and fiddling with his bangs to hide his expression now that his teary eyes were no longer needed. He tentatively started conversation, not wanting to come off too strongly when he was meant to be extremely concerned for Gonta's wellbeing. "So, were you at Harukawa-chan's research lab? I didn't realise she was already accepting visitors."

"Well, Tojo mentioned that Harukawa requested to have dinner brought up to her lab, and I offered to bring it up myself." Momota glanced at the windows lining the halls, tucking one hand into his trouser pocket. "She's interesting, but she sorta seems like the type who has a lot of demons, so while I was there, I wanted to let her know that I'm here if she ever needs any help."

"Did you see the inside of her lab, then?" Ouma asked as he curled a strand of hair around his finger, and this was an answer he was genuinely curious about. He had his suspicions surrounding Harukawa skyrocket after their encounter at her lab yesterday, so if he hadn't, it made it more probable she had something substantial to hide. 

"Nah, I didn't wanna intrude on her privacy. That's not manly, y'know?" Momota chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. Ouma's suspicion was confirmed, which was good information to have, but he wasn't sure how he wanted to tackle _that_ issue, so he focused on the present instead. "I talked to her through the door for a bit after I gave her the food. I don't know if she was actually listening, but she didn't tell me to shut up either, so I'd say that's a win!"

"I guess so." Ouma mumbled, trudging down the stairs as he formulated a response, biting back a smug smile. "I dunno if that means she was receptive though. She could have thought you wouldn't be worth the time and energy needed to tell you to shut up, or she could have tuned you out. Maybe she can't hear you from inside the lab at all." 

It was unlikely, considering the fact that Harukawa caught him before he entered yesterday, so she must have heard movement, but Momota didn't know that. He floundered for a moment, before clearing his throat loudly. "Yeah, well, I'm sure she'll warm up to me eventually! I've just gotta give her some time."

Ouma hummed in a way that made it obvious he didn't really believe him, nodding along. He strategically fell behind as Momota reached the front entrance, waiting with baited breath as he opened the door and stepped outside.

Only to have water thrown directly into his face.

"Gotcha!" Ouma and Angie chorused, the former snickering at a prank well done while the latter dropped the now empty bucket. Momota was speechless for once, taking a moment to process what happened as a hand reached up to run through his ruined hair, the water making the gel useless. He turned to look at him over his shoulder, and noticing the spark of anger in his eyes, Ouma burst into full laughter as he broke into a run, pushing past Momota and grabbing a giggling Angie's arm to drag her along.

"Abort, abort!" He shouted between his fits of laughter, ducking just in time to narrowly miss Momota's attempt at grabbing him. Angie and Ouma sprinted off with Momota hot on their heels, dripping wet with sticky hair drooping over his eyes.

* * *

Sealed off from the world by the door, a stilted melody echoed around the walls of the Ultimate Pianist's Lab.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to your regularly scheduled Sunday broadcast!
> 
> I hesitate to call it a set schedule, because as soon as I say I'm gonna post every Sunday, I won't be able to. But Sunday is usually my personal deadline when I'm not having writing blocks so!!
> 
> This chapter turned out a little shorter than I would've liked, but that's mostly because not much happened, aside from the motive videos being dispatched. It's not filler, just slower than some of the other chapters. The kids are having a brief repose to have their crises before shit goes down again 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I'll see you next chapter!!


	12. 2.4 : Under the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignoring the issue about the motive videos works well until it doesn't.

"What's up, bitch?"

Ouma made sure to wear a shit-eating grin as he caught up with Iruma in front of the dormitories, arms folded loosely behind his head. The morning sun was gently beating down, as it had every other morning, to warm them both.

Iruma huffed, a hand on her hip as she glanced at him from the corner of her eye, settling for a smirk. "I dunno, bitch, what's up with you?"

"Oh, y'know, going to eat breakfast like usual." Ouma replied, unfazed by the latest of Iruma's attempted comebacks, his grin growing sharp. "By the way, Iruma-chan, did you sleep last night? You look more shitty than usual."

Her ears flushed. "Shut up, you dick! I look sexier than you ever could!"

"Keep telling yourself that." He cooed, ducking with a laugh when Iruma tried to whack him over the head, pulling at the bottom of his right eye as he stuck his tongue out. She grumbled, but folded her arms over her chest and looked away once she failed, not raising to his bait for a game of tag.

The two entered the school building, walking in a casual silence that was occasionally broken up by Iruma's muttering as she began to take her hair out of its bun and re-tie it. They didn't run into anyone until they passed the first floor bathrooms, at which point a shout came from behind them, paired with the sound of thundering footsteps.

"Hey! Good morning, guys!" Chabashira waved, catching up to their leisurely pace with ease. She slowed to a walk alongside Iruma, who was still busy fixing her hair. 

"Morning, Chabashira-chan!" Ouma greeted cheerfully, leaning forward to see her from around the distracted Iruma.

"Yeah, yeah, mornin'."

"I wonder what Tojo-san cooked for breakfast today." Chabashira gushed, and Ouma had a feeling that this conversation was a bit one-sided, because she didn't react to their responses at all. "Natto and rice, maybe? Or something western again? It doesn't really matter. All her cooking is so good!"

Though it was mostly baseless, Ouma got the distinct impression that Chabashira was a bit lost after losing Yumeno, and didn't know where to direct her attention. He brushed the thought off as they entered the dining hall, splitting off from the girls immediately to take a seat between Gonta and Kiibo. A plate was awaiting him, along with a cup, both empty. It looked like Tojo had tried a buffet style breakfast today, with plates of various foods sat at the center of the table for him to choose from. 

He greeted Kiibo and Gonta with a smile each, before picking up his chopsticks and reaching for an omelette. He maneuvered it safely onto his plate as Chabashira brought the table's attention to herself, frowning. "Where's the others?"

Ouma hadn't noticed it earlier, but now it was glaringly obvious. Five seats were empty, instead of the expected two, and he had been rather late himself. Momota's eyebrows furrowed, pausing in his apparent mission to shove as much food in his mouth as possible. "Did Harukawa ask for breakfast to be delivered to her lab?"

"Indeed. It appears she has no intention of leaving it in the near future, as she has requested all her meals to be delivered." Tojo sighed, dabbing at her mouth with the elegance he had come to expect from her.

"What's her fucking deal anyway? Does she have a bunch of kids holed away or some shit?" Iruma snorted, piling her plate with fried rice. "I mean, what would a Child Caregiver's Lab even look like?" It was a valid question, unfortunately, though Ouma suspected it wasn't a Child Caregiver's Lab to begin with.

"Oh, Hoshi-kun told me he wouldn't be coming today." Akamatsu said as she nursed a cup of coffee with milk, her expression an image of sadness and concern. "He said something about worrying about bringing down the mood. I tried to cheer him up, but I don't think it helped." 

Ouma was reminded of his conversation with Hoshi on the school steps, and found himself unsurprised that Akamatsu received similar results; Hoshi could be stubborn when he really wanted to. Kiibo's eyebrows lowered as he leaned back, matching Akamatsu's worry. "He has appeared to be more detached since yesterday morning. Do you think it has something to do with the motive videos? The timing seems too perfect to be coincidental."

"Maybe he's worried about them?" Gonta suggested after taking a moment to swallow what he was eating, gently setting his chopsticks down. "Gonta's also worried about them, so he wouldn't be surprised."

"Saihara-kun also isn't present today." Shinguuji pointed out, addressing the final empty chair. "Though, for him especially, I'm unsure as to why he would choose to not come."

"He doesn't usually eat breakfast. Maybe he didn't see a point in turning up anymore?" Ouma suggested, remembering earlier observations as he finished his omelette. He shifted, going to grab the bowl of natto and transferring some to his plate.

Kiibo nodded along with a thoughtful hum. "That seems plausible, especially since he doesn't seem interested in the social aspect of breakfast like I am."

"Eh, I wouldn't worry about it too much. It's not like anyone's required to meet up here." Amami smiled, looking carefree as ever as he stood up from his now empty plate. "I'm gonna get going. Thanks for breakfast as always, Tojo."

Tojo gave a polite nod in response, and nobody stopped Amami as he left, casual as ever. Ouma watched him go, thinking that the sudden departure was a bit strange, especially when it lacked any proper explanation. 

He was distracted quickly by Angie sparking a new conversation, smiling brightly as she clapped her hands together excitedly. "Oh yes, good news everybody! I received an insightful message from Atua about our unfortunate situation, that I can share with you all!"

"An insightful message?" Momota repeated, looking mildly confused and while it didn't show on his face, Ouma felt similarly. 

That was exactly while he returned Angie's smile with a more sickeningly sweet edge, humming in a show of interest. "Really? What is it?"

He wasn't sure how encouraging her excessive excitement was as she straightened up in her seat, eyes sparkling. "You see, our real problem is our greed, not the fact that we're trapped here. It's _because_ we long for the outside world that we are in danger, because that makes us see each other as enemies. Atua says that we should cast aside our greed, and instead celebrate our new lives within these walls!" 

Ouma blinked slowly, his logical brain finding nothing to latch onto in her explanation because there was nothing logical about it. Shinguuji spoke hesitantly, as if almost afraid to ask, every word full of disbelief. "You- so you're suggesting we remain here, instead of trying to escape?"

"No, no, that's no good!" Angie tutted, and Ouma would have felt relief if he didn't have a sneaking suspicion that she had an even worse idea. He was proven right, not a second later. "We can't just remain here. Our lives must be filled with divine purpose too! In short, we must make this academy a paradise!" She threw her arms out in a show of passion, her cardigan slipping down her shoulders at the movement. 

"What are you talking about? How would you suggest we turn this academy into a 'paradise'? It doesn't make much sense to me." Kiibo asked, sounding overly skeptical. He was far from the only person who seemed doubtful - almost everyone else at the table appeared to be feeling the same way.

Angie, however, either didn't notice the disapproval or didn't care, because she continued with just as much cheeriness as before. "I think it makes a lot of sense! After all, we have shelter, food and good friends here. What more could we possibly want?" She leaned forward, her eyes darkening with something that wasn't malice, but certainly felt similar. "Anything else you long for is unnecessary. A product of your greed."

"Gonta guesses...that does make sense." Gonta murmured, fidgeting with his chopsticks before a small smile bloomed on his face. "When you say it like that, it sounds very nice."

"But it's not. Don't you dare consider anything she said, Gonta." Ouma said sharply, voice dark, and he could feel surprised eyes falling on him. He ignored them, making direct eye contact with Angie as he smiled, saying simply. "That's bullshit."

Angie's expression faltered slightly, clearly unhappy with the direct contradiction. Her smile was more strained as she tilted her head to one side. "Huuh? But Atua said it, so it must be true. Besides, didn't Tsumugi die because of her greed? Didn't she kill Himiko with her greed?" The words made Ouma realise that her wish for a paradise was rooted less in belief and more in grief. He supposed he shouldn't be too surprised - though he had to wonder if anyone could talk her down from the idea now. Maybe if nobody was interested, she'd let it go and begin to accept the situation instead. 

"W-Well, I think Shirogane-san had an understandable motive, though the fact she killed someone for it wasn't okay." Akamatsu said gently, pushing her last bits of food around her plate without much thought, more focused on the conversation. "And while the thought is nice, I don't think there's any way for us to create a paradise here. It's not greedy for us to want to leave when we didn't have any choice in coming here to begin with."

"Besides, you need to remember the bears are still here too. There's no way you'd get anywhere near a paradise with them around to interfere." Ouma added, a part of him desperate to drill the fact that it was impossible into Angie's head. She felt like a wildcard, a possible complication to their already complicated situation if left unchecked. "It's wishful thinking at best."

"Faith is certainly an important factor for many, but to be too heavily reliant on it is dangerous." Shinguuji sighed, his words laced with warning. "In a situation like this, while prayer may be understandable, complacency is risky." 

For a moment, Ouma thought he spied a degree of hurt on Angie's face, but it was gone in a blink. She stood up with a smile that was undeniable fake, and hurried out the room without a word. Her food seemed to be finished, so it wasn't completely impossible that she left because of that, but the timing suggested otherwise. Perhaps she couldn't handle the backlash?

"Well, that was really weird." Chabashira murmured to dismiss the silence following Angie's exit. A round of murmured agreement fluttered around the table, but Ouma had a feeling the group discussion was over for today, and finally took the opportunity to get some rice on his plate, mixing it with his natto. He ate, keeping to himself as the others spoke among each other and eventually began to leave the table. His attention was only caught once he neared the end of his meal, only a few bites of rice left.

"Um, Ouma-kun?"

He looked up at Gonta, who was already looking at him with an open expression of nervousness and hope. He took his time finishing the food in his mouth before replying, putting his chopsticks down. He wasn't particularly interested in the remaining rice, anyway.

"Yeah?"

"Gonta asked Tojo-san if she could help host a tea party, so he can practise gentleman manners." He elaborated with an innocent eagerness, adjusting the strap of his bug cage. "Do you want to come?"

He raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his seat with a playful smile. "Why? Do you think I have good table manners? If so, I'm very sorry to disappoint."

Gonta shook his head, face remaining serious. He supposed this was a serious matter for him. "No, Gonta just thinks it would be nice to have a tea party with his friends. Shinguuji-kun also agreed to come."

"Yeah, but Shinguuji-chan looks like he'd know all about the etiquette for tea or whatever, so it makes sense to invite him." Ouma argued, even though he was mostly delaying an inevitable answer. Knowing this, he tilted his head to the side and hummed. "What time?"

Gonta's face broke into a delightful smile as soon he showed any sign of agreement, all seriousness gone. "Tojo-san said that we could do it at 4pm, in her research lab."

He smiled back, a little more subdued. With a smile like that, there was really only one possible answer.

"I'll be there!"

* * *

Though he hated it, the motive videos continued to weigh heavily on his mind. Ouma had thought about it overnight, and was toying with the idea of several alternative solutions to the problem. He couldn't talk to Kiibo about it, because he was the biggest advocate against exchanging the videos, and his list of people he would be willing to discuss this with was limited. 

So yes, he was currently on a mission to find Amami, clutching a consolation gift from the MonoMono Machine to exchange for his opinions on his ideas. It was a drink in a fancy glass bottle, labelled as 'Cleopatra's Pearl Cocktail', despite it being more akin to a mocktail with the lack of alcohol on the ingredients list. Ouma didn't know an awful lot about Cleopatra, but he vaguely recalled a story about her dissolving and then swallowing the pearl from her earring, even though he couldn't remember the context.

He found him fairly quickly, after peeking into the dining hall. He grinned, entering the room as he hid the bottle behind his back. "Amami-chan! Are you busy?"

It was a mostly rhetorical question, so he hadn't been expecting Amami to chuckle awkwardly and offer an apologetic smile. "'Fraid so. I'm actually spending time with Saihara at the moment. Sorry, Ouma."

Summoned by his name, Saihara poked his head out of the kitchen doorway, where he was previously hidden from view. He offered Ouma a polite smile, slightly strained, before disappearing again as the sharp whistling of the kettle cut through the air. 

It was strange, very much so, but there was really no reason for Ouma to object, unless he wanted to look like a huge asshole. Which, considering he liked Amami, was _not_ what he wanted, so he settled for squinting suspiciously before waving dismissively. "Eh, whatever. There are other people who are desperate for my attention that I can entertain, y'know?"

He flashed a teasing grin, and Amami laughed in response, a genuine sound. "I'm sure." Ouma said goodbye, extending it to Saihara and getting no response from the kitchen that he could hear, before leaving the room again.

He let out a groan as soon as the door closed behind him, and began walking away quickly and aimlessly. He shouldn't be surprised - the more shocking thing was that he hadn't interrupted anyone before that point, when seeking people out to bother them. But he had wanted to talk to him about his ideas, and now he wouldn't get the opportunity, at least not until later.

Busy with his mostly petty thoughts, he narrowly avoided running straight into Akamatsu by the stairs. She must have not been paying attention either, because she was the one who yelped out an apology directly afterwards. Ouma stared at her for a brief moment, considering the fact that he had nothing better to do at the moment, before letting a grin bloom on his face as he shrugged. "Don't worry about it! In fact, I was just looking for you!" He spoke in an overly peppy tone, before dipping down into a deep bow as he produced the bottled drink from behind his back, not interested in keeping it himself. "For you, ma'am!"

"Thanks..?" Akamatsu said with visible confusion as she tentatively took the bottle, taking a moment to read the label before biting her lip. "Er, why were you looking for me? Was it just to give me this?"

Ouma scoffed, placing a hand on his chest in mock offense. "Excuse me, I'm not boring enough to try and find you _just_ to give you something." He lit up, clapping his hands together and exclaiming like he wasn't making up a reason on the spot. "I want you to teach me how to play piano!"

"Piano?" She repeated, still looking lost despite his stellar explanation.

"Duh! You're the Ultimate Pianist, and I wanna learn how to play piano, so obviously I'd come to you." He laughed, rocking back and forth on his heels. Akamatsu's face flooded with understanding before she broke into an excited smile.

"You do?" He wasn't sure why she was acting like it was such a shocking development, but he didn't bother prying, because she turned towards the stairs immediately afterwards. She looked energised, holding the bottled mocktail in one hand as she raised the other in determination. "We should go to my research lab, seeing as that's the only piano around here. It's so exciting that you want to try something new like this. I'll do my best to teach you!"

"Yeah! Thanks, Akamatsu-chan!" He cheered to match her enthusiasm, which was somehow stronger than he had expected, skipping after her as she began to walk to her lab. She smiled over her shoulder, and he thought that while he couldn't discuss his ideas with her, this might still be a fun distraction.

He sat at the piano a few moments later, Akamatsu settling down on the other side of the bench as Ouma eyed the complex sheet music on the music desk. She noticed his gaze, before chuckling and reaching over to move the sheets. "Don't worry, we're not gonna start with something that hard. You said that you've never learnt any instruments before, right?"

"Yup!" Ouma hummed, not bothered enough to disagree, or otherwise state that he was lying beforehand. It's not like he knew how to play piano either way, so it didn't make much difference. 

"Okay, so we'll start with the basics. Put your hands on the keys." Ouma did as told, with as little grace as humanly possible, and watched with amusement when Akamatsu winced at the sudden discordant notes. "No, not that forceful. You gotta keep your fingers light on the keys, and curve your fingers like you're holding an egg in your palm. Here, let me-" 

She leaned closer, and Ouma let her adjust his fingers herself, not really listening to her mumbled explanations and instead committing the hand positions to memory. He hadn't planned to learn piano, but there wasn't really a downside of actually paying attention. Once she was satisfied, she leaned back with a hum. "Okay! Now, let's talk about notes. There are twelve in total, seven on the white keys and five on the black keys."

The lesson was a bit of a struggle, partly because Ouma was trying to hinder his pre-existing musical knowledge on account of the fact that he supposedly didn't have any. "This is so haaard." He whined dramatically half an hour in, barely restraining himself from dropping his head onto the keys and instead draping his head on Akamatsu's shoulder. 

Akamatsu, to her credit, didn't brush him off. Instead, she let out a small laugh, patting his head. "Honestly, I could say the same thing about teaching. It's super hard to put things into the right words. I don't know, maybe I'm just a terrible teacher." The end of her sentence turned too melancholy for Ouma's liking, transitioning into a sigh as she bent down just enough to pick up the bottled mocktail from where she left it beside the piano bench.

"Oh, please. You're underselling yourself. I've had to deal with much worse teachers than you." Ouma said, faking a shudder as he watched Akamatsu open her drink. He didn't need to cheer her up, really, but he liked any opportunity to improvise, especially if it was relatively harmless. "You know, when I was younger, I once had to deal with someone who tried to teach me how to cook. They set the kitchen on fire without any interference from me, and _I_ was the one who had to put it out!" He pouted in mock outrage, before lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper as he raised an eyebrow. "Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, I don't think they knew how to cook at all."

That prompted a giggle from Akamatsu, half muffled behind her fingers, which Ouma took as a victory. "I really hope the kitchen was okay, and nothing was too damaged, but you've gotta be exaggerating, right? There's no way anyone who is _that_ bad at cooking would volunteer to teach."

"The burnt countertops and all the money they had to spend on replacing them say otherwise." He muttered with a sly grin, behind one raised hand, as if it was some sort of secret. His theatrics were appreciated, if Akamatsu's resulting widened eyes and shake of her head was interpreted correctly. She took a sip of her drink, and Ouma straightened up to lift his head from her shoulder, eyeing the bottle curiously. "What does that taste like?"

She hummed in thought, pressing her lips together. "Sour. Other than that, it's pretty good. I think it's pomegranate and lemon." She took another gulp, before offering him the bottle with a small smile. "Want to try some?"

He didn't particularly want to, but given the option, he didn't see a reason to turn it down. Ouma flashed a grin as he took the bottle, pulling his scarf down enough to take a sip. His nose wrinkled as he swallowed, thrusting the bottle back in Akamatsu's direction as he made a show of sticking his tongue. "You lied to me! It tastes terrible!"

"Hey, that's a matter of opinion!" She argued with a pout, not thrilled at being accused. She took the bottle nonetheless, nudging him playfully after a moment. "Can't handle sour things, then?"

"No, I just prefer sweet things. Don't be rude, Akamatsu-chan!" Ouma whined, even though his lips were quirked upwards, batting at her arm. He watched her take another gulp of the mocktail, and reached out for the bottle again, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone. "But I was joking! It tastes good, so lemme have another sip?"

"Why would you joke about that?" Akamatsu asked, handing the bottle to him and getting a halfhearted shrug in response to her question. She sighed, getting up from the bench and moving towards the CD shelves as Ouma tracked her with inquisitive eyes, taking tiny sips. It seemed like she had also realised that their piano lesson was a lost cause, because she was rifling through the CDs for something to listen to. "Anyway, can you tell me more about your cooking teacher? Or were you just joking about that too- aha!" She pulled out a CD, triumphant, and marched over to the player to put it in. 

Ouma clicked his tongue as soft piano music began to fill the air, closing the fall board over the keys so he could lean back against the piano. A mischievous grin broke onto his face. "No way! I wouldn't possibly joke about something like _that_! It was such an ordeal, y'know?"

They continued to pass the bottle back and forth as Akamatsu poked suspicious holes in his stories, and Ouma, to his amusement, continued to trick her back into believing him. The piano music wrapping around them was pleasant, and he found himself unable to really complain when Akamatsu got up to change the CD.

* * *

He knocked on the door of the Ultimate Maid's Lab at exactly 4:05pm, for the express purpose of being fashionably late. Tojo answered seconds later, quick enough that he wouldn't have been surprised if he was told she stood waiting at the door. "There you are, Ouma-kun. I was wondering if you had forgotten about the arrangement."

"What?! I'd never!" He gasped as he walked in, before shooting Tojo a cheeky smile over his shoulder. "You know you raised me better than that, Mom!"

Her expression pinched momentarily as she closed the door, voice barely concealing her annoyance. "I have told you before, I am not your mother and I don't want to be referred to as such."

"Yeah, you did mention that." Ouma said flippantly, skipping over to take a seat on Gonta's right, as he sat at the head of the table. His eyes were drawn to the tea set and cake stand piled with snacks on the table. "Hi guys! Sorry I'm late." 

He didn't sound particularly genuine in his apology, but Gonta accepted it all the same. He realised that he was lacking the bug cage he usually wore, no doubt to appear more formal. "It's okay, Ouma-kun! Gonta's happy you were able to come anyway." Tojo set a cup, saucer and teaspoon in front of him, before taking a seat beside Shinguuji on Gonta's left, smoothing her skirt.

"Indeed. The saying _is_ 'the more the merrier', after all." Shinguuji mused, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear. "I'll admit that I extended an invitation to Amami-kun, but he seems to be preoccupied, so he could not join us at this time." He almost sounded annoyed, his visible eye looking down at his teacup with a disdain that couldn't possibly be directed at the cup itself.

"Oh yeah, he was hanging out with Saihara-chan this morning. He's still busy with him?" Ouma asked, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin in his palm. Shinguuji sighed, giving a short nod in response. "Huh, that long? I wonder what those two are doing. Saihara-chan doesn't seem to be the social type."

"Well, it's good for them to be friends, right?" Gonta smiled, looking vaguely lost. "And friends like spending lots of time with each other, so it's not too weird."

"That may be true, but to spend this much time with one person seems excessive." Shinguuji muttered, scrutinising Ouma for a moment, which he didn't appreciate. "Take your elbows off the table, Ouma-kun, it's not polite for a tea party of this standard."

"Sounds like someone's jealous." Ouma mocked, straightening in his chair and allowing the movement to shift his elbows off the table. Shinguuji's unhappiness with the fact that Amami had not been able to attend was hilarious, because he wasn't aware that they were close. Maybe they weren't, and Shinguuji just thought Amami made good conversation. 

Though to his credit, the sudden closeness between Amami and Saihara was odd, if not bordering on suspicious, though that could easily be his nerves talking.

Shinguuji's brows knitted together, less than pleased by the taunt, but Tojo interjected the conversation could go any further in that direction. "I think that's enough gossip. We're here for tea, not to annoy each other." Her words left now room for argument, not that anyone was desperate to continue to begin with. 

"Right! So Gonta can practise gentlemanly behaviour for tea parties." The entomologist added cheerfully, glowing with excitement for the impending lesson. Tojo nodded with a gentle smile, before reaching for a small strainer, resting on the tray with the teapot. 

She placed it over the Shinguuji's cup in one smooth, practised motion. "This will filter the leaves out of the tea. Please pass it onto the next person once I finish pouring your cup." Getting a nod of understanding from each of them, she began to pour them each a cup of tea. He quickly realised she was serving black tea, which was unfortunate, because he preferred weaker tea, but he didn't say anything as she filled his cup to a respectable amount. Instead, he took the strainer and carefully leaned across the table so he could hand it to Tojo, who left her cup for last.

Shinguuji reached for the milk jug while Ouma instantly snagged the sugar bowl, dumping an excessive amount into his tea. Gonta appeared to be happy with plain tea, because he was already picking up his saucer with one hand, the fingers of his other hand curled around the handle. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to get a sip before Tojo stopped him. "Gokuhara-kun, you shouldn't pick up your saucer as well. Most people only do that when they are drinking while standing."

"Oh, Gonta's so sorry!" He instantly sat the saucer back down, paling in horror at the fact he messed up. He hesitated as he picked up the cup only, stealing glances at Tojo to verify he was doing the right thing.

"It's quite alright. I just wanted to give you some advice, as you said you wanted to learn how to act in formal tea parties." She nodded, encouraging him that he was doing the right thing, while Ouma quickly stole the milk from Shinguuji across the table. The anthropologist watched him as he stirred milk into his tea, pursing his lips as he raised his cup to them.

"You have a rather sweet preference, don't you?" He murmured behind the rim of the cup, taking a long sip and closing his eye as he savoured the taste or something similarly dramatic. 

"Yeah, it's called having good taste." Ouma grinned, setting his spoon down on his saucer but not making any move to pick the cup up. Instead, he turned his attention back to Tojo, who was adding a normal amount of sugar to her tea. "So are we allowed to eat the goodies on the cake stand, or are those for decoration only?"

"Gonta was also wondering about that. They look very good, but he wasn't sure if we were only having tea or not." The entomologist admitted sheepishly, placing his cup down with a delicate clink of porcelain. 

"Of course you can eat them. It would be a waste if you didn't." Tojo replied with a light laugh, reaching out to carefully readjust the cake stand now that attention had been brought to it. "We should start with the bottom layer, with the sandwiches. Make sure you don't eat too much, though. It's improper to eat like this is a full meal."

"Because, as afternoon tea, it is meant to be a mere snack to hold one over before dinner, correct?" Shinguuji had that glint in his eye, an interested light that appeared whenever he had some obscure fact to share with his present company.

Ouma, however, was mostly uninterested, and groaned, picking up his cup to feel the warmth in his palms even though he was fairly certain that was an improper way of holding it, judging by the look Tojo gave him. "But I'm so hungryyy. How unfair!" He sniffed, taking a sip of his tea to punctuate his sentence before smiling at Gonta once he was done. "Well, Gonta should get first pick, right? Seeing as he's our guest of honour!"

Gonta's face brightened at the title, and he found that he didn't regret giving him the privilege of first pick at all, even when he took most of the egg and cress sandwiches for himself.

* * *

Ouma had secluded himself to his room after eating dinner, having returned with a stack of papers and loose stationary from the warehouse. Despite being on fairly good terms with most of his classmates, they typically didn't seek him out once he retired for the day, so he was surprised when the intercom chimed. 

He furrowed his brows, picking up his Monopad from where it constantly remained on his desk to check the time. Just past 11pm; it was already nighttime, which made the sudden knock even weirder. He found himself wishing that they had built peepholes into these damn doors as he unlocked it, his curiosity and paranoia mixing into an uncomfortable sludge in his gut.

He opened the door. 

"Kiiboy?" The question slipped out before he could stop it. He wasn't sure why he was surprised by the robot's presence, seeing as it made the most sense for it to be him, but making the most sense still didn't explain _why_ he was here. 

Kiibo himself looked oddly tired, especially for someone who didn't really _get_ tired so much as run out of charge. He greeted him with a small smile, eyes brightening. "Ouma-kun, I hope I didn't wake you. I apologise for bothering you at a late hour, I just wanted to ask if you would be interested in taking a walk with me?"

"Psh, as if. You can't wake something that doesn't sleep." Ouma joked with a crooked grin. He didn't know why a walk was needed at 11pm, nor why he was invited, but he had dragged Kiibo around at ungodly hours before, so he thought he might as well return the favour. He stepped out, locking the door behind him, and let Kiibo begin to lead the way.

They walked silently, even though Kiibo had sought out his company specifically. He felt like there was a faint tension between them, and he didn't like it. Kiibo's presence was the most familiar to him, and even if he told himself he didn't trust him, he certainly couldn't deny that he was comfortable around him. For that to suddenly change - it made him antsy.

Kiibo came to a stop in the center of the lower courtyard, face turned upwards, and Ouma stopped beside him in tandem, pushing his hands into his pockets. He usually couldn't do that, with his sceptre in the way, but he had left it in his dorm tonight. They stood wordlessly in the courtyard, a gentle breeze washing over them and something vaguely anticipatory eating away at him, until Kiibo finally breathed a conversation starter. "It's a beautiful night, isn't it?"

"Sure is." Ouma murmured, gaze wandering up. He didn't look at the sky very often, mostly because he hated the reminder of the dome's existence. Looking past the fact they were trapped, the night really was beautiful, hues of deep blues and purples with a speckling of stars. Not a single cloud marred the image.

"The weather has been extremely pleasant, for as long as we've been here." Kiibo noted in a distracted tone, gaze soft as the green glow of his lights washed over his skin. His expression shifted slightly, into one of confusion. "It's a bit strange, isn't it? That the weather has been so picturesque. I'd have thought we'd have some rain already, or more clouds, at the very least."

"Last I remembered, it was summer. The weather is usually nicer then." Ouma snorted, though he watched for Kiibo's reaction with a careful eye. He couldn't exactly remember that it was summer; it was more like a vague feeling that he knew it was summer but not why he thought so. He wanted to know if Kiibo felt that feeling too.

He didn't contradict him, so he took that as confirmation. Instead, Kiibo huffed, placing his hands on his waist as his gaze fell to him. "Summer still has rain! By my calculation, we've been here for a week now. Seeing as it hasn't rained yet, I predict it _will_ rain in the coming days."

"Even if it does rain, it wouldn't reach us." He replied with a tilt of his head, flashing a mocking grin. "Considering the dome, it'd probably bounce off the glass and not actually bother us."

"I suppose." Kiibo conceded, not bouncing back with a counter argument like Ouma had expected, and he realised that Kiibo was fidgeting with his gloves again. Any lightheartedness melted away, and he looked weary again, eyes flickering around before he seemed to finally resolve himself, locking eyes with him. "Do you want everyone to exchange motive videos?"

And with that question, the awkwardness made sense. Nobody liked talking about the killing game, and anytime they did, it was never particularly comfortable, for good reason. However, Ouma didn't see any real purpose of lying about his intentions in this instance, seeing this as an opportunity to change Kiibo's mind. "Yep. You wanna know why?"

Kiibo looked away, looking slightly bashful as he grumbled. "Was it that obvious?"

"You say that like you're ever subtle." Ouma teased, winking at the unamused look he received before sobering up. He found his gaze returning to the sky as he spoke. "I feel like if we ignore the videos, a disaster is inevitable. People are gonna become curious about who's in their videos, what's said in their videos. Things like that. If you don't let them see, don't you think they're gonna start going behind our backs to find out? Wouldn't that be more of a hassle?"

"But the videos are a motive." Kiibo said flatly, frowning. "By watching the videos, not only do we risk a murder occuring, but we also comply to Monokuma's plans." He paused before sighing. "I suppose I'm just confused. I thought you'd be the type to dislike the idea of conforming to someone like him."

Knowing Kiibo, he doubted the statement was meant to be accusatory - if anything, it was a verbal observation. That didn't stop frustration from sparking in his gut as he forced a grin, eyes remaining on the glittering stars and remembering a vague sensation of falling. "News flash, but the motive is already in effect, whether we watch the videos or not. The motive is the existence of the videos themselves, not just the contents. Us knowing that the Kubs Pads are videos of the most important people in our lives is enough to spur someone on. Why not just let us watch them?" Kiibo was silent for a moment, considering, and Ouma quickly continued before he had a chance to retort. "Besides, I was thinking up a better idea, like we agreed!"

That piqued his interest, stopping whatever argument he had prepared. "Really? What is it?"

Ouma's grin smile became more natural as he felt the conversation shift to his favour as he turned to look at Kiibo. "We should all watch the motive videos together! I think the real danger of the videos is watching them alone and then internalising the emotions you feel about it, y'know? If we watched them together, then we could talk it out while we're there, like a huge therapy session. It'd basically make the videos useless anyway."

"No, that's not a good idea."

The response was so blunt that Ouma found himself caught off guard as Kiibo's eyes flashed. He frowned, not liking the unstable nature of this turn of conversation. "And why's that?"

Kiibo looked determined as he leaned forward, speaking with a hint of desperation that wasn't able to be hidden by the firmness of his words. "Yes, it's a better idea than just exchanging the videos, but that might not work for everyone. Even with support readily available, some people may still be affected by the contents of their motive video regardless. A murder will be more likely to happen. Do you want that?"

"No, I don't." Ouma felt his frustration return full force, and he grit his teeth to maintain his smile, even though he had a feeling it was obviously fake. "But we're in a lose-lose situation, Kiiboy. If a murder doesn't happen due to the videos, then Monokuma will just pull some other trick to try and push someone to murder, we both know that. What's the point in making people more paranoid about their videos if someone's gonna die anyway?"

"It's not a certainty that anyone else will die, don't phrase that like it is!" Kiibo quipped with a slight tremble to his voice, which made it clear to both of them that he knew better. He was in denial, like a lot of their class. He took a deep breath, less out of necessity and more so to calm himself, before powering on, clapping his hands together. "Look, Ouma-kun, you have to put this into perspective. Would you honestly be able to dismiss it with a few condolences if you found out DICE was possibly in danger?"

Kiibo realised his mistake a second too late, and Ouma's mind screeched to a halt.

Though Kiibo had asked about his organisation the day prior, Ouma had never said anything factual, let alone gave him the name. That meant that he found out about it in another way. 

His frustration transformed into a horrible wave of anger, spreading heat through his bones as he whispered, dangerously quiet. The calm before a storm. "You have my motive video, don't you?"

Kiibo didn't reply, but his grimace said enough. 

His anger only grew as the implications of that fact and Kiibo's earlier stubbornness crashed through the back of his mind. "You have my motive video! I can't believe-" Ouma raked a hand through his hair, turning away as he huffed, before his gaze snapped back to the robot in front of him, accusatory. "Is that why you were so insistent on us not exchanging videos? Because you didn't want me to see mine?"

Through his haze of red, he barely noticed Kiibo's visible surprise and guilt. Through the ringing in his ears, he heard Kiibo's response loud and clear, even as he stumbled over it. "No- well, I suppose, I suppose that's true but-"

" _Why_ ?" Ouma shouted, and he didn't notice that the wind had picked up speed, forcing his stray strands of hair out of his face to reveal blazing eyes. "What, did you think I couldn't handle it? You convinced everyone to ignore the motive videos because you think I'm too fragile to avoid _murder_ if I found out DICE might be hurt? Didn't that video tell you what our only rules are?"

Distantly, he was aware that he shouldn't be this angry about the fact Kiibo had his motive video. Out of everyone, Kiibo was the safest person to get it. But the fact that his prevention of everyone exchanging videos, which he was convinced would only end badly, was because of _him_ \- it frustrated him to no end.

That, and because he despised feeling like he was being looked down on.

"No!" Kiibo snapped, his surprise melting away as his agitation grew in time with Ouma's rage. "I was worried about how you'd feel if you watched the video, yes, but most importantly, I really do believe that ignoring them is the best way forward! Ouma-kun, please calm down-"

"Calm down?" Ouma repeated incredulously, scarf slipping down to hang low on his collarbone, revealing his full expression. He was too preoccupied to care about the exposure. " _Calm down?_ After you refused Saihara's compromise just so you could keep my video from me? That was the best possible compromise any of us could've come up with, and you turned it down because you thought you were smarter than us stupid humans, huh?"

His words were getting increasingly harsher, so he really shouldn't have been surprised when Kiibo got increasingly distressed and started shouting back, but in that moment, he couldn't let go of that fact. They had been offered a perfectly good compromise, and Kiibo turned it down because _he thought he knew better than him-_ "Don't say things like that! It's not like you're any better- you lied to me about your organisation!"

That caused another realisation; Kiibo had already known about DICE when he asked about his organisation yesterday. _It had been a test._ That alone caused his anger to twist into rage. He dug his nails into his palms, near snarling. "Yeah, it's called wanting to have privacy! God, aren't you supposed to be learning human behaviour? The most important thing about us is that we keep secrets from each other all the time!"

"I know that, but-"

"We lie! It's human nature, and you can't just hold that over me!"

"I _know_ , but- but don't you _trust me_?"

It was a question that felt like it should be whispered, but instead it was half-shrieked as Kiibo balled his hands into fists. 

"Trust? Why would you expect me to trust anyone when we're in a fucking killing game, let alone _you_?!" Ouma let out a borderline hysterical laugh at that, breathless and skin tinged red with exertion as he tipped his head back. "For all I know, you could be hiding some deadly functions from everyone and waiting for the right moment to kill me!"

He choked on his breath as his mind caught up to his mouth. 

Suddenly, the film of red disappeared, and the fire that had roared through his veins was replaced with ice. He was sensitive to the chilling night air against his unguarded face, and the pinpricks of pain that came from where he dug his nails into skin too hard.

And he was painfully, painfully aware of the look of pure hurt on Kiibo's face. 

His tongue felt like lead, but he fought through the feeling to speak. "Kiibo, I didn't mean-"

"No." His voice was sharp, and colder than usual. He turned away from him, head ducking down, and just that small action felt like a slap in the face. Kiibo had always been interesting because he was like an open book, not really out of naivety but out of will, and now he was closing himself off. From _him_. "No, it's fine." He sighed, and turned his back to him completely as he continued with stiff words. "Listen, you can arrange something with the others regarding the motive videos if you want. I won't stop you. But I'm not going to be involved in any of it."

It went without saying that Kiibo meant he wouldn't give him the chance to see his motive, no matter what. 

Kiibo began leaving as soon as he finished speaking, movements rigid and footsteps heavy. Ouma didn't try to stop him as he remained in the middle of the courtyard, something empty settling in his chest that wasn't soothed by the idea of being able to follow through with his plans for the motive videos. His composure never cracked that badly or genuinely before. The fact that Kiibo had his video wasn't even that serious of a revelation, really, so why did he have such a violent emotional reaction to it?

The wind whistled shrilly in his ear.

He shivered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I call this one 'Pain'!
> 
> For unknowable reasons, I really struggled with this chapter as a whole?? I don't know why, but hey, we got there eventually!
> 
> In canon, the motive videos are the only real plot-centric issue that Kiibo and Ouma are so directly against each other on, at least from what I can remember. If anything, I'd argue that they're each sides' biggest advocate. It was kind of inevitable that there was gonna be huge conflict between the two of them in regards to this motive.
> 
> Ouma's anger stems mostly from his preexisting frustration surrounding the situation and Kiibo's perceived betrayal for both finding out something that's extremely personal to Ouma and keeping it from him (even though you'll probably notice that Ouma's a huge hypocrite on account of Kiibo still not knowing he has his video). Kiibo tried to diffuse the situation but ended up making it worse. They're both a mess.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I'll see you next chapter!!


	13. 2.5 : Dearly Beloved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ouma makes an executive decision and hosts a motive screening party.

He didn't sleep well that night, insomnia mixing with the emotional aftermath to result in him giving up on the idea of any proper sleep once 6am came around. 

Ouma felt miserable. Guilt simmered in his gut as he replayed the argument in his head, each word haunting him. A part of him wanted to apologise, because he really didn't mean any of it, but another was too disgustingly stubborn to follow through while remnants of his frustration still lingered.

Perhaps his early rising was a small mercy, because it allowed him to think over how he was going to propose his plan to the others. As much as he hated the argument prior, he wasn't willing to let go of his plan when he had an opportunity and was convinced it was for the best. His early rising also allowed him to arrive at the dining hall as soon as it opened, which worked in his favour when he wanted to send someone to round everyone up.

Chabashira and Tojo were the only ones as punctual as he was, and seeing as Tojo was already off on her usual mission of making breakfast, he decided to pester the former instead. He slipped into the seat beside her, letting a charming smile settle on his face, even though he knew it wouldn't convince her any faster than his words could. "Good mooorning, Chabashira-chan!"

"What do you want, degenerate?" She mumbled back, watching him with palpable suspicion but not sounding outwardly hostile. "Don't try to deny it, boys only get those kind of smiles on their faces when they want something."

She wasn't exactly wrong, and even if she was, she wasn't going to listen to reason from his mouth, so he didn't try to excuse himself. Instead, he let his smile curl upwards as he leaned forward. "I need help getting everyone here."

He didn't elaborate so he wasn't surprised when she narrowed her eyes after a moment of silence. "Why?"

"I think I've got a solution for our motive video situation, so it's only fair that everyone comes here to hear it." Ouma explained with an overly casual air, resting his palms on his thighs to support the shift in his weight. He watched her face closely to see the way her features pinched momentarily in realisation, before relaxing into mild curiosity.

Chabashira chewed on her bottom lip for a moment before poking a finger in his face, a halfhearted anger on hers. "I'm not doing this because you asked me. I'm only doing it for the sake of everyone, and because I'm guessing you won't tell me until everyone is here."

"I wouldn't expect anything less from you." He smiled, leaning back into his seat now that business was settled. "And you guessed correctly! I'm keeping it to myself until everyone is here, because I don't feel like repeating myself."

Chabashira huffed, but didn't complain as she got up and left the room. Ouma watched her go, before thinking over what he was going to say yet again, this time with the added bonus of Tojo's cooking as background noise. It was a boring train of thought, and he was constantly distracted as the rest of the class slowly trickled in. Most of them shot him a curious look, but none tried to ask him what he wanted to talk about while they were still missing members. He wasn't sure if that was because Chabashira told them not to, or if they all realised he wouldn't say anything until everyone had gathered by themselves. 

Ouma was surprised to find that Kiibo had chosen to show up as well, mostly because he knew what this would be about and had assumed he wouldn't want to be here when the discussion occurred. He walked in, appearing relatively normal aside from the fact that he was avoiding looking anywhere near Ouma's direction, and sat down at the most optimal place for ignoring him. It made his heart pang, but he didn't allow himself any pity because there were more pressing issues for him to focus on. Either way, he was pleased to find that it didn't take very long for everyone to arrive, with Chabashira marking her return by impatiently ushering Hoshi inside.

Tojo finished setting two large plates of rice balls in the center of the table as they took their seats, and retreated to her own seat to avoid getting caught up in the mad dash for food. Though he wasn't particularly hungry, Ouma thought it'd be fun to pick up his chopsticks and join in, batting viciously at several pairs that tried reaching for the rice ball he had chosen. He ignored the protests of his classmates, biting down a giggle as he delivered the rice ball to his plate. 

It wasn't until everyone had served themselves that Iruma finally scoffed, fed up with the lack of important conversation happening. "So are you gonna tell us your wonderous idea, or are you just gonna keep blue-balling us?"

"Maybe if you shut up and let me speak, I will." He drawled back sarcastically, grinning at her as she harrumphed, before leaning back in his chair and throwing out his arms. "Brilliant news, everybody! I have an idea of how to deal with the motive videos."

"Yeah? Let's hear it, then." Amami said with good natured amusement, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Thirteen expectant pairs of eyes laid on him, and he didn't waver in the slightest, letting his arms drop onto the table as he leaned forward.

"Okay, so, here's the deal," Ouma propped his elbows up so his hands were free for the gestures he would inevitably pull, smile slipping off to reveal a more serious expression. "We should watch the motive videos together."

"Watch the motive videos together? But Gonta thought the videos were bad?" Gonta frowned, and he wasn't the only one who seemed doubtful of the legitimacy of the idea. Ouma was unbothered. 

"Yeah, but just ignoring a bad thing doesn't make it go away." He said, highlighting a principle that he felt went forgotten by a majority of the class. "The motives are meant to prompt some sort of emotional reaction, right? Obviously, if you watch it alone, you're gonna internalise it and it'll be more likely that you'll do something brash. They're  _ intended _ to be watched alone." 

Ouma sighed heavily, letting his voice grow somber and stern to contrast his usual melodic tone. "If we watch them together, we'll be able to talk it out and calm everyone down so the motive videos are less likely to work. Plus, Monokuma would have to wait to make sure the motives didn't work before pulling something else, as opposed to knowing we won't touch them, y'know? It's not perfect, but it's a safer option."

Nobody spoke for a few moments, and there was silence aside from the clinking of cutlery and cups. Ouma didn't rush anyone for a reaction, assuming they were processing his preposition. Amami let out a long hum to break the pause, setting his coffee cup down. "That's definitely an interesting plan."

"It could certainly work as a good compromise." Tojo mused, delicately picking her rice ball up between her chopsticks, raising it to take a bite. "By taking measures to reduce the effectiveness of the motive videos, it may not be as dangerous to watch them, and we would not be actively defying Monokuma either."

"Not to mention it would sate our overall curiosity, which was one of the main concerns beforehand, correct?" Shinguuji added thoughtfully, running his fingers along the string of his eyepatch, resting against his cheek.

"Oh yeah, because some of us wanted to know who the most important person in our life is!" Angie appeared to be cheerful as she smiled in understanding, any annoyance from the fiasco yesterday morning no longer visible. 

Hoshi shrugged, resting his elbows on the table as he leaned forward to grab another rice ball. "I'd be up for giving it a try. I just want to see my video, so I don't really care how we do it."

"I dunno about that, but I do think talking things out is a good idea." Momota said with a grin, giving Hoshi a cursory glance in a show of concern or disdain, perhaps. "That way, nobody'll get any crazy ideas without someone being there to talk them down."

"Yeah, that'll definitely help more than just exchanging them." Akamatsu said that with confidence, despite looking slightly hesitant. Ouma wasn't blind; he noticed glances - not just Akamatsu, but several other classmates too - in Kiibo's direction, as if waiting for a refutation. After his strong resistance to the idea of any interaction with the motive videos, it wasn't surprising that everyone expected him to oppose the idea, but he remained silent, looking between everyone politely. "But are you sure it'll work?"

"Well, what else are we supposed to do, huh?" Iruma scoffed, dragging the pot of coffee towards herself. "Sit around like lame ducks until Monokuma gets sick of waiting and kills us himself? I say we watch'em, to get him off our damn backs, at the very least."

Akamatsu worried her bottom lip between her teeth. "I guess so."

"If we do want to do something, this does seem like the most favourable option." Tojo said gently, smiling at Akamatsu in an attempt to alleviate her worry. "It may not be foolproof, but like Ouma-kun said, it's the safest alternative to ignoring the videos altogether."

"This is stupid." Harukawa said stiffly, poking at her rice ball with disinterest before raising her gaze to watch everyone else. "Are you forgetting that the videos are still motives? I don't want to watch something that's meant to provoke me into murder."

If Ouma wasn't watching Kiibo out of the corner of his eye anyway, he would have missed his subtle lean forward. Still, he had a question to answer, so he clicked his tongue as he readjusted his scarf. "Then don't."

Harukawa blinked, clearly not expecting that answer, before staring at him with suspicion. "This isn't going to be another compulsory group decision?"

"C'mon, when have I ever advocated for collective decisions?" Ouma snorted, shaking his head. "My ideas are always suggestions, not orders. I've said that before. How about this; I'll host a motive screening party at 3pm in the A/V Room. Anyone who wants to see their video can come, and anyone who doesn't can stay away from the A/V Room. The only  _ rule _ is that anyone who attends has to bring their current Kubs Pad. Capiche?"

"That sounds fair." Saihara murmured, despite looking relatively detached from the conversation. His response seemed to prompt everyone else, at least, even it sounded more like an observation than an answer.

"Yeah, I guess that works." Chabashira said over the brim of her teacup, seemingly reluctant of her admission.

"I'll be there." Hoshi promised, as Ouma had expected. He smiled at him, and Hoshi allowed a lazy one back.

Harukawa sighed heavily, ducking her head to take a bite of her food. "Whatever. As long as I'm not expected to be there."

Honestly, Ouma had expected a little more resistance than he got, but he'd take what he can get. If everyone wanted to play along with his idea, he wasn't going to stop them - it just meant he had to work less hard to convince them. Similar agreements rippled through the room, most neither confirming nor denying whether they would be in attendance or not, until Kiibo was the only person who had yet to answer. Unfortunately, Ouma already knew his answer. 

Kiibo sighed heavily, and stood up with a nearly unnoticeable shake of his head. "Then we're done here." Without waiting for a response, he left the room without a glance back.

Watching the door close behind the robot, Ouma swiftly stood up, clapping his hands together. "Good! I'll see you guys at 3pm, then!" And with that, he followed Kiibo's example and left the room, half eaten food left behind.

He had a feeling that Kiibo's change in behaviour would spark some conversation, and if it did, he didn't want to be there for it.

* * *

Ouma spent the rest of the morning tucked away in his room, trying to catch up on lost sleep. He knew that it was a hopeless endeavour, but he didn't feel like searching for anyone's company today, not after-

He tried not to think about it. He needed to give himself time to process and calm down before he tried to apologise - at least, that's what he told himself. He tried not to think about it, but it kept returning to the forefront of his mind. 

If he was being honest with himself, Kiibo was a grey area for him. He refused to fully trust anyone in a situation like this, but Kiibo got scarily close. He sought to be as secretive as possible, yet Kiibo knew more than most outside of DICE, with information given willingly and otherwise. It had been a long time since his thoughts on someone had been so personal and conflicting, and he hated it as much as it intrigued him. 

But he wasn't thinking about that right now.

Because as a leader, his priority was the collective, and at the moment, the collective was his class in this killing game. So he picked himself up and arrived at the A/V Room almost an hour early, the Kubs Pad in one hand, because a leader of any kind couldn't afford to be seen as late. 

(He'd never hear the end of it from Juro if he was, especially after he kept teasing  _ him _ for being late.)

He sighed as he glanced at the two couches, catching sight of something he didn't want to see. A familiar thin blanket was thrown against the arm of one of the couches with nobody being bothered enough to move it, and the memory of that night suddenly felt unappealing. He took his sceptre of its holster as he collapsed onto the couch without the blanket, leaning forward to put it behind his feet and out of the way, before sinking into the cushions.

He stared down at his own solemn face reflected back in the screen, resigning himself to the waiting game despite hating it with his entire being. It wasn't like there was any point to try and find company when he had to be back here in under an hour, and it wasn't like he was desperate for company either.

Lucky or not, after a few long minutes of staring blankly at the Kubs Pad, he was distracted by the door opening. Akamatsu walked in, clutching her Kubs Pad with both hands as she offered him a smile that was nervous at the edges. "Ouma-kun! What are you doing here so early?"

He grinned, dropping his tablet onto his lap as he hooked an arm around the back of the couch. "Well, as the host of this motive video screening party, I thought it'd be polite for me to be here first, to be able to greet people." He paused, squinting one curious eye. "Really, I should be asking  _ you _ that question. For a guest, you're super early."

She laughed, one hand letting go of her tablet to brush her hair out of her face. "I guess so. I just didn't want to be late, that's all." Akamatsu's voice grew quieter as she hurried around the couch to take a seat beside him. "Have you been here long? I was trying to find you earlier, but obviously I didn't succeed."

He twisted back around, letting his arm drop from the back of the couch as he raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Not that long, I was in my dorm for the past few hours. Why were you looking for me?"

She floundered for a moment, looking away, and it was enough for Ouma to suspect that she was about to lie to him. However, her words sounded genuine and she looked him in the eye as she admitted with mild embarrassment. "I thought it might be nice to have another piano lesson. Though, I guess it wasn't really much of a lesson, but it was nice to just talk to you, you know?"

"Sure, we can do that again sometime. You were pretty fun to hang out with." Ouma said honestly, leaning back and folding his arms behind his head.

She nodded, but didn't say anything else. The silence between them felt awkward, and he considered elaborating on his response despite having nothing else to add, if only to fill it. The thought was ultimately unnecessary as Akamatsu let out a huff and asked with determination that contradicted her hesitance: "Did something happen between you and Kiibo-kun?"

His eyes flashed at the name, but his gaze remained lazy as it flickered over to meet her. "What makes you think something did?" His tone was carefully neutral, the deflection instinctive, but he was genuinely curious as to what tipped her off. He had a feeling the effects of their argument had been obvious anyway, but he couldn't tell with his insider's perspective.

"You were both acting a bit off this morning, so I thought the timing might not be coincidental." She explained sheepishly, tapping on the edges of her Kubs Pad. "I tried to ask Kiibo-kun about it, but he refused to tell me anything."

"Did he set you up to this?" Ouma asked impatiently, scrutinising Akamatsu for a sign that his guess was right. He didn't like the turn of this conversation, and wanted to avoid any further pressing. 

"What? No! I'm just worried, because you're both my friends." She was firm in her statement, pouting at the accusation as she tightened her grip on the edges of the Kubs Pad. "It might help to talk about it, and I could help you fix things, if the situation calls for that."

"No." He snapped, voice flat as he turned his head away. He knew she was right, but there was no way he was having that conversation when anyone could walk in at any minute. "I don't wanna talk about it. It's boring. Choose a different topic."

Akamatsu's eyebrows furrowed, in either concern or frustration, he couldn't tell. She stared at him for a few moments, presumably hoping that would somehow change his mind, before giving in. "Okay. What do you want to talk about, then?"

He clicked his tongue, eyes wandering aimlessly around the A/V Room and pointedly ignoring the other couch. "Oh!" He lit up, turning to her with a clap of finality, shaking off his tangled emotions for the comfort of a mask. "I know! What's your opinion on our resident emo loner?"

Akamatsu blinked slowly, confusion written on her face. "You mean Saihara-kun?" He nodded, and once she received confirmation that they were thinking of the same person, she tilted her head back as she tapped at her chin. A small frown settled on her face, and she tilted her head again to be able to comfortably look at him. "He's...strange. To be honest, I don't know what to think of him. For a detective, he doesn't seem super reliable."

"Tell me about it." Ouma snorted, pulling his legs up onto the couch to sit cross legged instead. His mind wandered back to the detective's behaviour, and the trial a few days ago, before he mumbled under his breath. "More like super  _ un _ reliable."

"But maybe that's just because of the situation. This entire experience is pretty stressful, so I can't blame him for keeping to himself." She continued as if he hadn't spoken, and he could agree with her point, at least. He chose not to voice the counterpoint that he also kept vital evidence to himself, but even if he wanted, he didn't get a chance as Akamatsu brightened. "And he's started spending more time with Amami-kun, right? I think that's a good sign! Amami-kun's pretty laid back, so he might be able to help Saihara-kun relax and open up a bit."

"Yeah, Amami-chan does tend to have that effect." Ouma admitted, burying his nose into his scarf as he glanced downward at the Kubs Pad, only to be promptly reminded of why they were here. He groaned, unnecessarily loud. "How long do you think everyone else is gonna take?"

"We're here early, so they're probably gonna take a while." Akamatsu wore a mildly exasperated smile, pushing her right sleeve back to reveal a small orange wrist watch that he never knew she had. "It's only 2:30. We still have half an hour."

As soon as she said that, the door slammed open and Iruma strutted in, swinging her Kubs Pad haphazardly between her forefinger and thumb. "So how're you hooking these babies up?"

Akamatsu jolted, looking over her shoulder with a polite smile to greet her. "Oh, hey Iruma-san." 

This was a far cry from Ouma's greeting, which involved him tipping his head back to see Iruma upside down and offering her a coy grin. "I dunno. I thought you might like to figure that out."

She froze midstep, before glaring at him as she threw her Kubs Pad in the direction of the unoccupied couch. It landed, though if he had no idea if that was due to luck or impeccable aim. "What the fuck! You couldn't have told me that before, you slug?! Genius can only work so fast!"

"What, are you saying you're  _ not  _ good enough to figure it out?" Ouma challenged, with a smile that showed he knew exactly what he was doing. If you listened close enough, Akamatsu's tired sigh could be heard behind his goading.

"Of course I can figure this shit out! But you gotta treat me with respect if you want help." Iruma huffed, going over to the projector with a sway of hips that somehow made her look more unattractive, which was the opposite of the intended effect. She bent forward to inspect the device, before letting out another, more irritated huff. 

"Gimme that." She grumbled as she circled back towards them, before unceremoniously snatching the Kubs Pad from Ouma's lap.

"Hey! Use your own tablet, I don't want your cooties on mine!" He shouted, pouting at the resulting middle finger his way. Akamatsu shook her head with folded arms, regret for being here to witness this on her face. Iruma seemed to compare the Kubs Pad with something on the projector before growling something under her breath before storming out of the room with his tablet in tow. 

Ouma blinked as the door closed, slightly disappointed by the lack of retort, before turning to face Akamatsu again. "Do y'think she'll be able to actually work it out?"

"Of course. She's the Ultimate Inventor, isn't she?" Akamatsu replied, not giving her answer much thought as she leaned into the couch, giving him a disapproving look. "I know she's difficult to deal with, but you shouldn't be provoking her like that."

"Aw, but it's fun to provoke her." He sighed in mock disappointment, grinning with the tip of his tongue between his teeth at Akamatsu's flat look back. He was sure he was in for a lecture on good behaviour or something, but he was saved by the door of the room opening.

"Hi everyone! Gonta isn't too early, is he?" The entomologist smiled, his Kubs Pad held delicately in his hands, as if he was afraid he'd damage it. Tojo followed him in with her own Kubs Pad in hand, nodding politely as she did.

"No, no, you're fine!" Akamatsu smiled back, promptly forgetting her disapproval of Ouma's behaviour in her need to reassure Gonta. "We're just waiting for everyone to arrive. You can come sit down, if you like."

"Oh, okay! Good, he wanted to be on time." He walked around the couch to take a seat beside Ouma, which meant he was now comfortably sandwiched between Gonta and Akamatsu. Tojo, on the other hand, elected to sit down on the other couch, carefully moving the tablet Iruma abandoned to the side before doing so.

"Iruma-san seemed to be frantic when I passed her. Did something happen?" She asked, setting her Kubs Pad on top of the one she moved, before straightening out her skirt. 

"I asked her to work out how to connect the videos to the projector without prior warning." Ouma snorted, casually leaning against Gonta's arm as he answered Tojo's question. Gonta didn't seem to mind the extra weight, placing his Kubs Pad on the arm of the couch and making sure it didn't immediately tip over. 

Tojo hummed, lightly grabbing her chin in thought. "Would she need any help? It may not be in my area of expertise, but I might be able to assist."

"Nah, she'll be fine." Ouma dismissed with a mischievous smile. "Even if she wasn't, I'm pretty sure she'd take offers of assistance in inventing as an insult. Her ego's too fragile for that."

"If you're certain." Tojo murmured, seemingly unconvinced. Her worry was unnecessary, as Ouma knew it would be, because Iruma returned less than ten minutes later in a whirlwind of confidence.

"You're lucky it was easy for me to adjust this wire into being compatible." Iruma announced to the room, even though it was obvious she was only addressing him. He noticed his Kubs Pad in her hand, a cable now hanging from its port. "These Pads have a weird fuckin' port on them. It's like they don't want the thing to be used at all!" 

"That might not be far from the truth." Tojo mused while Iruma made a beeline to the projector once more, making sure the wire fit into the port on the other end. "If Ouma-kun's theory is correct, the videos are intended to be watched alone. There would be no reason for it to be connected anywhere else if we complied to that intention."

"Clearly they didn't know they were messing with  _ me. _ " Iruma laughed, puffing her chest out in triumph. She placed the Kubs Pad down on top of the projector, seemingly done with it, just as another wave of people entered.

"Sorry, I'm not late, am I?" Chabashira fretted as soon as she saw how many people were already in the room. Hoshi contradicted her concern, wandering in as relaxed as ever, one hand in his pocket while the other held his Kubs Pad. 

"No, you've still got ten minutes until we're supposed to start." Akamatsu soothed after a quick check of her watch, shifting closer to Ouma to pat beside her in offer. Chabashira smiled, gratefulness in the action as she hurried to accept the seat, plopping down next to the pianist with a lack of grace. 

Hoshi had the common sense to sit down on the couch that was less occupied, offering Tojo a small smile before looking around with a chuckle. "There's a lot more people than I thought there would be. With the original resistance towards the videos, I assumed less people would show up."

"Well, Ouma-kun's suggestion made some sense, and it worked as a compromise." Akamatsu said, and he had to stifle a snigger at Chabashira's reluctant agreement beside her. 

"Yeah, and Gonta's also a bit curious." Gonta admittedly sheepishly, scratching at the collar of his dress shirt. "He's nervous, but he also wants to know what's in his video."

"Me too." Chabashira added, fidgeting with the tablet in her lap. "I mean, I don't want to hear that something bad happened to someone I care about, but it's kind of interesting to see who the most important person in my life is."

Hoshi nodded along, and looked like he wanted to add something to the conversation but was interrupted by another arrival before he could open his mouth. 

"I'm here, I'm here!" Angie called, waltzing into the room with a flutter from her yellow cardigan, clutching her Kubs Pad to her chest with one hand as she used the other to close the door behind her.

Ouma straightened up from Gonta's arm to avoid it going numb, waving a hand at the newcomer with a grin. "Angie-chan! Nice of you to make it, and just in time too!" He squished closer to Gonta to make room for her on the couch, seeing as they had room for about one more. Akamatsu shuffled closer to Chabashira, following his lead.

"Nice to be here!" Angie cooed, skipping over to accept the place. She relaxed into it easily, despite being pressed between two bodies, before tilting her head to the side. "Uh, I have a question though."

Ouma shifted slightly, getting more comfortable in the new position, and Gonta shifted further left to accommodate him. He glanced at Angie out of the corner of his eye. "Yeah? Shoot."

She tapped her finger to her lips, her brows downturned. "Should we watch the motive videos of people who aren't here? After all, they won't need to be comforted if they don't watch it."

"That's a good question." Tojo hummed as Iruma went to grab her abandoned Kubs Pad from beside her. "There wouldn't be much reason for us to watch the videos that belong to people who aren't here."

Ouma clicked his tongue, crossing his arms and already knowing what his answer was. He didn't reply immediately, trying to think of a viable reason for his answer, before electing to shrug. "Might as well, since we're here."

If anyone disagreed, they didn't get a chance to voice it, because Iruma loudly cut in as soon as his judgement was made. "Yeah, well, are we starting already or what? Put your videos into a pile, that'll make things easier for me." She punctuated her order by putting her Kubs Pad down beside the projector and gesturing impatiently at it. 

The other occupants of the room exchanged a few glances, but complied. Ouma remained lounged on the couch, having already had his video snatched by Iruma, and watched the others gradually sit back down. Once everyone was seated and the videos were stacked, Iruma clapped her hands together and moved to turn on the projector. 

She collapsed onto the couch beside Tojo as the screen turned on, starting to play a familiar motive video without promoting. Ouma buried his face into his scarf, not paying attention to the screen as Kiibo's motive played, the intended recipient absent. 

He glanced up as it ended, briefly noticing Akamatsu glancing at him from behind Angie's head before brushing it off. There was a moment of silence in which nobody was certain how to respond, especially with Kiibo being absent, leaving them unable to gauge his reaction. 

Eventually, Gonta tentatively spoke up, fidgeting. "Gonta hopes Professor Iidabashi is okay."

"Mhm, he seems like a nice man." Angie murmured sadly, slowly kicking her legs back and forth, as if she couldn't stand staying still. "It would be a shame if something happened to him."

Another brief pause, this time broken up by Tojo's sigh. "May we move onto the next video please, Iruma-san?"

"Yeah, yeah, on it." She grumbled, pulling herself up from her seat and disconnecting Kiibo's video from the projector. She put it down, starting a new pile on the opposite side of the projector, before going to grab the topmost Kubs Pad in the original pile. 

She continued to hook up the next video, but Ouma was distracted, at this point, by the door bursting open. "Hey, sorry I'm late." Momota chuckled as he strolled in, rubbing the back of his neck with the hand that wasn't holding a Kubs Pad.

"Momota-chan! You're late!" Ouma gasped overdramatically, twisting around to stare him down. "I said 3pm, y'know? Geez, I expected better from you!"

"I said I was sorry!" Momota argued back, despite looking mildly embarrassed by the direct attack. Ouma gave him an impish grin, shrugging before turning back around to face the projector.

"Whatever, Astronut. Add your video to the pile and sit the fuck down." Iruma huffed, waving vaguely in said pile's direction as she finished fidgeting with the projector. Momota grumbled but did as told as Iruma sat back down, moving to sit next to Hoshi on the couch once he was done. 

The next video began to play, showing the same brightly coloured text over a dark background. This one, however, read 'Gokuhara Gonta's Motive Video'. Ouma gently shifted to hug Gonta's arm in a silent show of support, resting his cheek against his shoulder as Monokuma's stupid voice crackled around the room.

_ "Alright, the moment you've all been waiting for! It's time for a motive video! Who's the most important person in your life, I wonder? And now, without further ado…" _

The screen transitioned into a new image, the scene set in a beautiful mountain area, with green trees dotted around the frame. Gonta sat on the ground in the center of the picture, smiling brightly as various types of insects crawled and buzzed around him. A butterfly rested against one of his fingers, and his eyes shone behind his glasses. Whoever the most important person in Gonta's life was, it certainly wasn't obvious in this single image.

_ "Gokuhara Gonta, the Ultimate Entomologist. This young man gained his Ultimate title after discovering several new insects and other revolutionary discoveries in the world of entomology. Wow." _

Monokuma's voice was overly mocking, dripping with insincerity.

_ "He was only able to make these discoveries with the things he learned from his beloved 'mountain family', who raised him after he got lost in the woods. He owes them everything - and because of that, they are the most important people in his life." _

The image on-screen changed again, this time to the same mountain backdrop, with a distinct lack of insects. It was darker, the trees chopped down and sky heavy with smoke. In the distance, pinpricks of flame could be seen, only adding to the chaos of the scene. Ouma hugged Gonta's arm tighter as the muscles tensed, keeping his eyes forward.

_ "But- uh oh! It looks like something horrible happened to this mountain area and its inhabitants. What was it?" _

Monokuma popped up into frame, the image of a ruined mountain area dimming to focus on the bear.

_ "You'll have to find out for yourself!" _

He broke into manic giggles, and the sound persisted as the screen faded to black.

"Gonta's mountain family is hurt? They're in danger?"

Ouma didn't let go of his arm, but he did finally raise his gaze to see Gonta's reaction; a paled face warped with confusion and hurt. He bit his lip, once again faced with his inability to properly comfort people. 

Luckily, he wasn't the only person here. Akamatsu, someone who was infinitely more emotionally sensitive than he was, whispered with a soft, sympathetic gaze. "Gonta-kun, I'm so sorry. They sound like they were all wonderful people."

"C'mon, Akamatsu, don't talk like that!" Momota sounded too loud after what they just watched, leaning forward to catch the pianist's eye with a half smile. His reaction was completely different compared to everyone else's - Ouma wondered if he had paid attention to the video at all.

Chabashira didn't appreciate the difference in reaction either, if her sudden straightening to hiss at him meant anything. "Shush! Be sensitive, you- you male! Something like that isn't easy to deal with. At least  _ try _ to be more considerate!"

"No, I understand that." Momota said with a hint of insistence, running a hand over his hair. "I just don't think we should worry about it, you know?"

Ouma blinked in disbelief. Hoshi raised a skeptical eyebrow, watching the astronaut with a frown. "You think he shouldn't worry about the most important people in his life being in danger?"

Momota exhaled, shaking his head with a small laugh. "No, obviously I get why he would worry about that. Hell, I'd worry if my loved ones were in danger too. What I mean is that there isn't any real proof that they're in danger, is there? I mean, even the pictures on the video could easily be edited or something, right?" He sighed, propping his elbow on the back of the couch. "I'm just saying. This is Monokuma we're talkin' about, I wouldn't trust anything he or the kubs give us."

"Yeah, I thought that too. I didn't mention 'cause I didn't want to distract you all with my genius." Iruma bragged, hastily enough that it was obvious she hadn't. Ouma decided to spare her, for once, and not call her out on it.

"Oh, you're right. We're only assuming our loved ones are in danger because Monokuma said so, I see, I see." Angie murmured, nodding as she eyed the pile of Kubs Pads they had yet to watch. "That does make sense!"

"So...Gonta's mountain family is safe, after all?" Gonta asked slowly, almost hesitant to pose the question even though hope shone in his eyes. 

"Course they are, big guy." Ouma said soothingly, rubbing his arm in what might be described as a calming manner. Then, to make sure Gonta was fully calm, let his mouth run. "I mean, they raised you, right? They must be super powerful, because they were able to protect you! So they'll probably be fine, even if they were in danger." 

Gonta hummed quietly, before nodding with a small smile. "Yeah!" 

"Should we move on, then?" Tojo suggested, glancing at Iruma, who hopped up to disconnect the Kubs Pad. 

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it!"

Ouma pat Gonta's arm before finally detangling himself from the other. Iruma was quicker with the change in video this time, getting into the swing of it. She landed on the couch with a huff as the video started. The screen showed familiar bright text on a contrasting dark background, this time reading 'Harukawa Maki's Motive Video'. Ouma could admit that he was interested in what the video contained as Monokuma's voice introduced it, as always.

_ "Alright, the moment you've all been waiting for! It's time for a motive video! Who's the most important person in your life, I wonder? And now, without further ado…" _

The screen transitioned into an image of Harukawa, sitting in what looked like a hall, with younger children sat around her. Some clung to her, and most of them looked like they were happy playing around Harukawa, despite Harukawa herself looking mostly neutral. The image matched her claim as the Ultimate Child Caregiver, and yet Monokuma's overly cheerful voice said otherwise.

_ "Harukawa Maki, the Ultimate Assassin." _

Ultimate Assassin.

Something clicks in Ouma's mind, a cold acknowledgement. He already knew that Harukawa was most likely lying about her talent, but hearing it made her lies make  _ sense. _ If he wanted to hide his talent because it implied dictatorship, she had even more reason to hide her talent of killing in a  _ killing game. _

Monokuma's disembodied voice continued, but nobody was really paying attention anymore. 

_ "This talented young lady-" _

"Who had Harukawa-chan's motive video?" Ouma asked quietly, tearing his eyes away from the screen to survey the group.

_ "-is exceptionally skilled in killing-" _

"I did." Momota said as he rose his hand, and had the audacity to look mildly confused by the slow outrage building around him. "What's wrong? I know, it's a bit surprising to find out she hid her actual talent from us but-"

_ "-her targets efficiently, earning her-" _

"She's a fuckin' murderer, and we're in a killing game!" Iruma shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Momota. "I know you're stupid, but this is impressive levels of dumbassery! Don't you get the implications here?"

_ "-her bloody Ultimate title. But-" _

"It is a bit weird that she kept her talent from us, isn't it?" Angie murmured with a smile, voice light yet eyes dark. "Why would she do that, if not to use it against us?"

_ "-she would have never earned it-" _

Hoshi chuckled, a bitter sound that held no sincerity. "Maybe she's waiting for the right moment to kill all of us."

_ "-if she hadn't become an assassin to protect the children in the orphanage she-" _

"Or maybe she wanted to avoid this reaction." Momota countered, growing irritated as he gripped the arm of the couch. "Look, I know what it sounds like, but I believe in her! She's not that kind of person. She's gotta have a good reason for being an assassin, and I want to find out what it is so I can clear her name. I've been trying to talk to her, but I didn't wanna tell her I had her motive video outright."

_ "-grew up in, the most important people in her life. Aw." _

"And that's another thing!" Ouma huffed, pushing up to stand and release some of his agitated energy. "You knew her talent, for  _ days  _ now, and you didn't tell any of us? You didn't think it was a good idea to tell us there was a trained killer in our midsts?"

_ "But- uh oh!" _

"It wasn't my secret to share, okay?! That sort of shit is private!" Momota pushed himself up too, using his height to loom over Ouma, as if that would intimidate him at all. "I didn't want to come here alone. I was late because I was trying to convince her to come with me!"

_ "Unfortunately, despite her best efforts, Harukawa wasn't able to protect them." _

Ouma knew from patterns that the image changed on-screen, but he didn't spare it a glance as he stared Momota down. Akamatsu, in a feeble attempt to calm everyone down, cut in. "Yeah, I'm sure she has her reasons. I mean, her motive video says she's only an assassin to protect the kids at her orphanage."

_ "It looks like something happened to those poor kids." _

"Yeah, but...she's still the Ultimate Assassin." Chabashira said warily, fidgeting with her hair and avoiding looking at the screen. "Reasons or not, she still-"

_ "What happened, exactly?" _

"If Harukawa-san is the Ultimate Assassin," Gonta interrupted her with a whisper, careful and almost inaudible. "Was she the one who tried to poison Yumeno-san?"

_ "Find out for yourself!" _

Tense silence fell around them; Momota didn't have an immediate retort, which meant he most likely wouldn't have one at all, at least not with any substance. A quick glance in her direction showed that Chabashira had paled, looking visibly queasy as she stared holes in the carpet, arms wrapped around her stomach. 

"Iruma-san," Tojo muttered, turning to address the inventor beside her. "We should move on."

Iruma's eyebrows furrowed, clearly unhappy with this suggestion. "But-"

"We have a lot of videos to get through. We can discuss all of this later, but for now, let's move on."

Iruma's nose wrinkled, disliking the idea but not arguing any further, instead turning to the projector with a huff. Momota looked away, landing back onto the couch beside Hoshi with his hands on his thighs. Ouma, slowly relaxing as Momota sat down, turned to return to his own seat.

He froze at the sound of the announcement chime above their heads, heart stopping in his chest. 

_ (No, no, no, no. Most of them were here but some of them weren't.) _

_ "A body has been discovered!" _

_ ( _ Kiibo  _ wasn't. And one of the last things he had said to him-) _

_ "Everyone, please gather outside the Ultimate Pianist's Lab!" _

Ouma was the first one out of the door, blind panic fuelling him into a sprint, uncaring of the others around him. He was barely aware of his feet carrying him to the destination of the body, vision clearing once he burst through the corridor that led to the hall containing the Ultimate Pianist's Lab.

There were two people stood in the hall; the closest to Ouma was Shinguuji, stock still and staring, and the one closer to the body-

"Ouma-kun." Kiibo breathed as he looked over his shoulder at him, eyes full of horror. It was the first thing he had said to him since the argument, and the fact that he was able to say anything to him at all should have filled Ouma with relief.

Relief, however, never had the opportunity to come, as his gaze wandered to Saihara, crouched over the sprawled body with an expression twisted with pain and grief. 

The body of Amami Rantaro. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops an avocado has been guacamoled
> 
> Yeah so things really aren't going great with the gang, but hey, Ouma got to have that motive screening party he wanted so there's that at least??
> 
> Also, I imagine that Kiibo is both very passive aggressive and very polite, which is why he turned up to breakfast despite really not wanting to. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I'll see you next chapter!!


	14. 2.6 : Puzzle Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things get easier the more you do them. This may only be the second time, but Ouma has a hunch that that theory doesn't apply to murder investigation.

By the time everyone had gathered around the body, Ouma still hadn't fully processed the situation. 

Amami was gone. Murdered. 

Something withered in his chest as he remembered the time they had spent together, digging his nails into his palms as he forced himself to focus. There wasn't any time to grieve - not now, at least. Right now, the best thing he could do was avenge Amami by finding his killer.

But even that thought came with a sour taste, because it was one of his classmates. Ouma wasn't overly close with everyone, but that certainly didn't mean he was looking forward to watching someone get executed again. 

"Amami-kun?" Gonta said quietly, voice quivering. It was enough to shake the tense silence, and Saihara raised to his full height after a gentle press of two fingers against Amami's pulse point, even though it was obviously a useless gesture. 

"Someone else is dead?" Akamatsu murmured, biting her lip afterwards as if she hadn't meant to say it aloud. Her shock, unintentionally shared or not, was the same among her peers - Ouma felt the chill of it lingering in his bones. He hitched his scarf higher to obscure his expression.

"So it would seem." Shinguuji said tersely, snapping out of his shell shock quicker than Ouma would have imagined while remaining stiff. "Unfortunately, Amami-kun is no longer among the living."

"Well," Angie's smile was paper thin and fooling a grand total of nobody, eyes downcast as she laced her fingers together behind her back. "What are we supposed to do now, huh?"

"We have to investigate now, right?" Hoshi suggested from the back of the gathered crowd, pinched eyebrows giving away his discomfort. "Another murder means another trial."

_"It sure does!"_

Ouma grit his teeth to avoid letting out an annoyed sigh, tilting his head back as Monokuma seemingly dropped down from the ceiling. The bear seemed chipper, in a sharp contrast to the rest of the grim atmosphere, but he was hardly surprised by that. "Looks like you guys have got your second victim under your belts! Aren't you thrilled?"

"Who would be thrilled by that?" Chabashira shouted, something sharp in her eye even though her expression was warped with fear.

Monokuma was unbothered, cackling as the cubs materialised from the ceiling too. They weren't doing their usual high pitched giggling, which was a miniscule mercy. "Well, I am! After all, trials are the best part of this experience, and they can't happen without one of you brats dying first."

Momota frowned, balling his hands into fists in a feeble attempt to reign in the apparent anger that manifested every time Monokuma was in his vicinity. "Hey-"

"Anyway, I've got the Monokuma Files for you! This time there's one for each of you, so there's no need to fight over it." Monokuma continued on, not allowing Momota the chance to speak as the cubs began handing out the files. Ouma let out a humourless snort as he accepted a file from Monodam; as if they were fighting over it to begin with. 

He skimmed over the file, vaguely aware of some conversation between the bears but ignoring it. He had a job to do, after all. Looking up after processing everything, he found that the bears had scurried off, and Tojo exhaled slowly. "I suppose we should get started, correct?"

There was a murmured agreement among the group, shock fading away into the heavy realisation that the game really was continuing. They began to break off into small groups, the air buzzing with a faint nervous energy.

Preparing himself for the task at hand, Ouma turned to Kiibo again, taking a step towards him before his conscious could stop him. Kiibo caught his gaze, something soft and sad flashing across his face before his expression hardened and he turned away from him. Ouma bit his lip hard, tasting something bitter on his tongue, but he couldn't blame the robot for that kind of reaction. He turned his head down to glare at the Monokuma File before he noticed the small pile gathering near the wall, most likely to keep the files out of the way, and went to add his to it.

"Do you want some help investigating?" Ouma got up from his crouch, now missing a file, to find Akamatsu standing beside him with a small smile. He bet she thought she was subtle, with her quick glance towards Kiibo talking to Gonta. 

"No, I'm good!" He flashed a plastic grin as he placed one hand on his hip, tone much more sickly sweet than even he deemed necessary. Ouma sighed, forcing himself to tone it down. He didn't want to provoke anyone at the moment, and he needed to follow his own advice and stop being so openly emotional, even if someone he strongly cared about was- "But if you want to tag along, I wouldn't make you leave."

If Akamatsu was bothered by his passive aggressiveness, she didn't let it show, instead offering a look of determination. "So where do you want to start?"

"Probably with the body. That makes the most sense." Ouma said with a hint of feigned enthusiasm, even though the idea of looking any closer at Amami's dead body made his stomach roll. He hadn't had this issue when Yumeno died, even though it was just as horrifying, and that fact disturbed him. 

He pretended not to see the bob of Akamatsu's nervous swallow, not when she tried to mask it with a hum immediately afterwards. "Right! Let's get going before we lose too much time, then." Ouma only gave a nod of confirmation before making a beeline towards the body, not allowing himself any more procrastination.

Earlier, he'd admittedly been in enough shock that he had focused almost entirely on the corpse itself, so approaching the scene again with more focused, logical eyes was like seeing the details unfurl before him. Ouma dropped into a crouch to look closer at something he couldn't believe he hadn't registered sooner - writing in blood to the side of the body. The kanji was jagged, and the lines were thin, but the word was decipherable.

Kyōi. 

_Threat._

It was obviously in reference to Amami, and part of Ouma, the logical part that wanted answers above all else, was thrilled with the possibility of this being a clue to the motive. The rest, however, was disappointed by the fact that as a clue towards a motive, it didn't really make sense. Amami was intimidating, but not particularly an inherent threat, especially without a talent he could remember. 

"That's a weird thing to be next to him, isn't it?" Akamatsu asked, looming over him from her still standing position. She leaned downwards, a faint frown pulling at her lips. "What do you think it means?"

Ouma scoffed, glancing up with dark eyes. He was slightly irritated by the condescending nature of the question, even though it was unintentional. "I dunno, what do _you_ think?" She bit the inside of her cheek, looking away in a way that made it clear they both knew the implications.

His gaze wandered further, noting with a frown the state Amami's clothes were in. The ruffled nature wasn't much of a surprise after being victim to a murder, and neither were the bloodstains, but the positions of said bloodstains didn't seem natural to him. 

He was distracted from his thoughts by Akamatsu's observation, the pianist letting out a small sound of surprise before leaning down again. She rested one hand on her knee while the other stretched out to point at his left arm. "Hey, Ouma-kun, does this arm look off to you?"

Ouma squinted at said arm in response, realising that Akamatsu had a point. "Kind of, actually." Out of curiosity, he reached out and grabbed his left upper arm in a gentle grip, before moving it slowly. He shivered at the unusual ease at which it moved, letting go quickly afterwards with a click of his tongue. "Yeah, no, that's dislocated alright. The Monokuma File mentioned something like that."

"Dislocated that badly?" Akamatsu questioned, looking paler as she knelt down, reaching out to carefully lift up the collar of Amami's shirt and check his bare shoulder for injury despite clearly not wanting to. She sucked in a breath through her teeth. "Geez, what did this culprit do to him?"

"No idea, but that's kind of why we're investigating to begin with." Ouma replied, choosing to leave the shoulder and instead take a closer look at the killing wound itself. It was situated on the top of his head, and he gingerly brushed strands of hair out of the way, doing his best to avoid touching the drying blood with his bare hands. There wasn't much to note of the wound itself aside from the fact that it looked painful, and that there were copious amounts of blood. He stood up before he had the chance to develop the nausea swirling in his throat further. "Well, that may be it for the body."

"I guess so." Though her words were hesitant, he could see Akamatsu's shoulders relax slightly as she averted her gaze from the corpse. The relief didn't last long, as Akamatsu got up and pointed something else out with a tense smile. "We should investigate that next, right?"

The thing in question was a blood trail, leading from the wound on Amami's head to under the door of Classroom B. Ouma hadn't paid much attention to it until now, but it was definitely the most solid lead they had outside the body itself. He returned the smile with an effort to make it look convincing, stepping away from the body. "Yeppers! Let's take a look."

He grabbed onto Akamatsu's wrist before marching towards Classroom B, effectively dragging her along despite the shake of her head. Ouma threw the door open before he had a chance to hesitate, stepping into the room while being careful to avoid stepping in the blood, tracking the trail with his eyes. It didn't carry on much further past the door, stopping at a puddle at the front row of desks. 

"It's rearranged." Akamatsu voiced the obvious, tugging her wrist from Ouma's grip and walking over to the desk closest to the door. Like she said, the chair from the desk beside it had been moved to the desk closest to the door. The chairs looked like they were meant to be facing each other, but one had been toppled over and landed just before where the blood trail began. "Who do you think did that? The culprit?"

"I mean, sure, but what would be the point?" Ouma retorted, tiptoeing over to the fallen chair. He leaned forward, folding his arms behind his back and narrowing his eyes, inspecting the state of the chair itself. "More importantly, I'm pretty sure this means Amami-chan was killed here, instead of out there."

The evidence certainly pointed towards that, and while he was soothed by the fact that they had the evidence to figure that out, it also raised more questions. Akamatsu frowned, pressing a finger to her mouth as she stared down at the desk in thought before her eyes flickered over to him. "But why would the culprit move his body into the hallway?"

"To make it more likely to be found, duh. It was much more likely for someone to stumble on the body in the hall as opposed to in a classroom." He replied easily, but even as he spoke, his mind considered the idea. The fact that the culprit _wanted_ the body to be found quickly could speak for their personality or motive, but it could easily be irrelevant. Ouma sighed, straightening up from his lean and running a hand through his hair. "Okay, so we've looked around. Let's talk about alibis. The Monokuma File said he died around 2:35, so anyone who was alone at that time is suspicious." He shifted, stepping over the blood trail to lean against the wall. "The obvious ones at the moment are Harukawa-chan, Shinguuji-chan, Saihara-chan and Kiibo."

"The both of us couldn't have done it, because we were with each other." Akamatsu mused with a small smile, perching herself carefully on the edge of the desk. "And neither could anyone who was at the motive screening, right? The culprit had to have spent some time arranging the body after the time of death, and everyone had to be there by 3pm." 

Ouma grimaced, folding his arms over his chest. "I wouldn't say that. We don't know for sure, but I'd say 20 minutes is too large of a time frame. The culprit could've done all this in ten minutes, give or take, so it's safer to presume they were done by 2:45."

"Oh, I see." Akamatsu mumbled with a nod, accepting his reasoning with little fuss. He was slightly taken aback, but he didn't let it show on his face, because it was well within Akamatsu's character to trust blindly. "Iruma-san was back before then. That leaves those who arrived after the time frame of the murder as Chabashira-san, Hoshi-kun, Angie-san and Momota-kun."

_"You guys talkin' about me?"_

Lo and behold, Momota appeared as the door opened, a quizzical expression on his face. Ouma could see Harukawa shuffling behind him, looking very much like she wanted to be anywhere else but here. He grinned, deciding that he may as well start collecting alibis now, and piped up before Akamatsu could begin a polite conversation. "Yeah, I was just saying how weird it was that you were late to the motive screening party, y'know? Some might say it's a bit suspicious!"

Akamatsu, unsurprisingly, jolted at this claim and looked over at him, seemingly not enjoying his approach. "H-Hey, don't say it like that! We weren't singling him out or anything!"

Her attempts to diffuse the situation failed, as Momota talked over her with a defensive huff, not taking kindly to the thinly veiled accusation. "There's nothing weird about it at all! I already told you that I was busy trying to convince Harukawa to come, didn't I?" He did, but Ouma still cocked his head in mock confusion, so Momota turned to the girl behind him instead. "Harukawa, you can back me up on this, right?"

Harukawa rolled her eyes, lingering in the doorway with her feet placed carefully to avoid the blood trail. It was a small gesture that Ouma supposed he could appreciate. "Sure, whatever."

"Oh, oh, Harukawa-chan! While you're here, I've gotta ask you something!" Ouma called, hopping over to the doorway to be closer to the newcomers as he was finally able to let faux cheer console him into being a nuisance. "Where were you today? I haven't seen you in forever!"

She gave him a deadpan expression, unamused by his antics as she let her fringe shadow her eyes. It instantly made her look more intimidating, but Ouma didn't waver until she sighed. "I was in my Ultimate Lab the entire time, except for when I was called down by _you_ for breakfast."

"You've been staying in your lab a lot recently. What are you doing up there?" Akamatsu asked conversationally, to try and make Harukawa feel less interrogated and more comfortable. 

Knowing what Harukawa was hiding evidence of up there, Ouma was unsurprised when her attempt didn't work. She sent a sharp glare in Akamatsu's direction, pressing her lips together. "None of your business."

He briefly wondered if she knew her secret was out already.

"Okay, but can anyone prove that you were there?" Ouma asked, more seriously as he returned to the issue at hand. His grin softened into a slight quirk of his lips that didn't meet his eyes.

Harukawa didn't answer immediately, but that didn't matter, because Momota did on his behalf. He raised a hand with a bright, determined smile. "Yeah, I can! I was talking to her through the door from 2 to 3pm, roughly? That should cover it, right?" He sounded confident, and he had good reason to, because if he was telling the truth, that _would_ mean that both Harukawa and Momota would have been unable to commit the crime.

"Bothering me, more like." Harukawa corrected with a huff, crossing her arms and curling into herself as she stared at Momota. "I didn't really pay attention, but didn't you disappear for a bit around 2:30? You stopped rambling for fifteen minutes or something like that."

Ouma raised his eyebrows in a show of surprise, watching Momota splutter momentarily as he recognised how incriminating that sounded. "I just went to grab my Kubs Pad from my dorm, that's all! Remember when I got back, I asked if you wanted to come with me?"

"I wouldn't know. I wasn't listening." Harukawa shot back, and Ouma stifled a snicker at Momota's expression, which could only be described as a pout. Still, he tabled the answers away as adequate enough - there wasn't anything outstandingly suspicious for him to look into, and he didn't want to waste time when they'd be called into a trial soon enough.

"It's okay, Momota-kun, I believe you!" Akamatsu smiled, waving her hands placatingly. Consciously or not, the astronaut relaxed at her insistence. Ouma considered making a remark on Akamatsu speaking for herself, but decided against it.

Instead, he let out a hum of thought. "Yeah. Anyway, thanks for the answers, and good luck with your investigation!" Then, more than ready to get on with tracking everyone else down, he left the room, bumping shoulders with Harukawa on the way out.

"Ouma-kun! Slow down!" Akamatsu called, though it seemed to be in reference to his hasty exit as opposed to his actual speed, because she caught up with him easily. He smiled playfully over his shoulder, but offered no apology, instead skipping over to the pair standing near the body. 

"Shinguuji-chan! I have a teensy question for you." He said as he rushed over to the anthropologist, making sure to keep his eyes up to avoid looking at the body any more than strictly necessary. While his mind was objective-driven, it was also fond of lying and therefore couldn't handle too much exposure to the ugly truth. From the small glimpse he did get, he noticed Tojo kneeling neatly at Amami's side, presumably inspecting the corpse for herself.

"You want to know my account again, I presume?" If Shinguuji sounded too calm during Yumeno's case, this time he sounded too hollow. His eye lingered on the body for a few more moments before flickering to Ouma, face blank. "There isn't much to say. I was alone in the dining hall, having some tea, and upon leaving, I decided to go up to Akamatsu-san's lab to peruse her music selection. Of course, I was unable to because I was met with this unfortunate occurrence instead."

Again, Ouma wasn't certain how close Shinguuji and Amami really were, but it was clear that the latter's death affected him. Unluckily, he had no idea how to start consoling someone without simply distracting them by riling them up, which was arguably the worst way to approach someone in grief. Luckily, Akamatsu was tagging along, and had a much better eye for this sort of thing.

She moved around Ouma, wearing a small, sympathetic smile. "Are you feeling alright, Shinguuji-kun? Can I do anything to help?" Her voice was quiet, purposefully unintrusive, and Ouma watched as Shinguuji's attention slid from him to her.

The anthropologist sighed, waving a dismissive hand and fixing his posture, visibly collecting himself as he did. "No, it's quite alright. I'm doing fine. Don't waste time worrying about me when we have a murder on our hands." He wandered off, forcibly ending the conversation there. 

Ouma was too tired to deal with the aftermath of that, but Akamatsu clearly wasn't. She placed a warm hand on his shoulder to attract his attention, speaking softly. "Shinguuji-kun said he helped Angie-san throught Yumeno-san's death, but he doesn't seem to want to accept any help himself. I'm gonna try and talk to him. You talk to Tojo-san in the meantime." 

And with a wink, she hurried after Shinguuji. Ouma pouted, but didn't particularly mind being left alone for a bit. Akamatsu and Kiibo went about investigation in different ways, and he wasn't afraid to admit to himself that he liked Kiibo's method better, if only because it worked well with his own. He turned back to Tojo, who was rising to her full height, cocking his head to one side. "I already know where you were, Mom, but have you found anything suspicious?"

"Now isn't the time for joking around, Ouma-kun." She said sternly, brushing dust off her skirt as she cleared her throat. She was right, but he didn't tell her that. "I'm afraid I haven't found anything, however I think I may have some important knowledge."

"Important knowledge, you say?" Ouma echoed, playing up his curiosity with wide eyes as he rocked forward on his toes. 

Tojo didn't react to his theatrics, back to professionalism as usual, instead giving him a short nod. "I ran into Amami-kun in the courtyard, at around 2:25. We didn't speak much, but I do remember him mentioning a meeting with Saihara-kun."

That _was_ important knowledge, not that Ouma expected any less from Tojo. A planned meeting with Saihara aligned with their sudden closeness over the past day or so, but considering the current situation, it was interesting.

"You think he ever actually met up with Saihara-chan?" He mused aloud, not actually asking for an answer as he folded his arms behind his back.

He got an answer from Tojo anyway, as her brows pinched. "I'm not sure. The chance of the meeting happening is equal to the chance of it not happening. You may have to ask Saihara-kun about that directly."

Of course. Ouma nibbled on his bottom lip, fixing his scarf as he contemplated the information. "So if it didn't, you might have been the last person to see him alive. Excluding the culprit, obviously."

Tojo let out a sigh that sounded like that was an assumption she had been dreading. "While an unfortunate thought, it's certainly possible that that may be the case."

He nodded, the conversation lulling with his lack of response. Tojo didn't push him for one, so he kept to himself until he was roused by the sight of Akamatsu returning out of the corner of his eye. Ouma let a grin slide onto his face, bowing his head towards Tojo in a show of gratitude. "Well, thanks for letting me know, Tojo-chan. You're the best!" He let her with a cheerful wave as he spun on his heel and hurried to meet Akamatsu halfway across the hall, more than happy to leave the body behind. "Sooo? How did talking to Shinguuji-chan go?"

"Not great. I think it's probably best to leave him alone for now." Akamatsu admitted sheepishly, scratching her cheek with a small smile. She dropped her hand, looking him in the eye as her smile grew hopeful. "Did Tojo-san mention anything that might help us?"

For once, Ouma was able to be the bearer of good news, so he felt like a smug smile back was justified. "Yeah, so as it turns out, Tojo-chan bumped into Amami-chan at 2:25 or something and he mentioned a meeting with Saihara-chan. Basically, we have to track Saihara-chan down to ask him about all that."

Akamatsu hummed, nodding as she tapped her chin with her forefinger. "Okay, that makes sense. We also still need to get testimonies from everyone, right?"

Ouma would have confirmed that yes, they did need to get all the relevant testimonies, if he wasn't interrupted by a sudden manifestation of yellow. Angie bounced on the balls of her feet beside him, restless. "Testimonies, you say? Do you need mine?"

"How's your investigation going, Angie-chan?" Ouma greeted with a cheeky smile, even though he should really circle back and get her testimony while they were there. He knew she hadn't done much investigating during the previous case, and was curious if she would contribute more once her grief was more subdued. 

Angie hummed before pouting, pressing a fingertip to her cheek. "Well, I checked the body and I looked around for some more clues, but I haven't been able to find much so I dunno." She brightened, dropping her hand to be able to swing her arms back and forth. "That's okay, though! Atua knows the culprit, and he'll help us through this, I know it!"

For such confident words, Ouma had to wonder why her eyes didn't reflect that steadfast belief. 

"I'm sure he will, but like you said, we do need your testimony." Akamatsu quickly interjected, successfully redirecting the conversation back to a more productive topic. "What were you doing before the motive screening?"

"Before, huh?" Angie seemed to take the question in stride, fiddling with one of her pigtails as she tilted her head, before a smile bloomed on her face. "I was at the pool, 'cause I found a swimming costume my size in the warehouse. It was nice to go swimming again, it reminds me of home."

Akamatsu softened at that, clasping her hands together gently at her chest. "Oh, that does sound nice! I didn't know the warehouse had swimwear!" Ouma wasn't thrilled by the prospect of this conversation devolving into the selection of swimwear in the warehouse, and he was lucky enough to be saved by the arrival of a fourth person.

"Angie, you gotta stop running off like that." Hoshi huffed out a laugh, coming to a stop beside Akamatsu with a mildly amused look on his face despite the inconvenience.

The artist let out a little gasp, before moving to hold her hand over her mouth. "Oh, I know, I know. Sorry! I just heard Kaede talking about testimonies, so I was curious and came over here!"

Ouma's gaze flickered between the two as Hoshi shook his head in exasperation. He let the situation register in his head before pointing between the two, veiling his surprise with indifference. "You two are investigating together?"

There wasn't anything _wrong_ with that, per se, it was simply...weird. Hoshi was relatively chill most of the time, but he still didn't seem like the type to want to deal with Angie's hyper nature for any extended period of time. And yet against all odds, Hoshi pushed his hands into his pockets and gave a simple nod, casual as ever. "Yeah, we are. So what's this about testimonies? Do you need mine too?"

"If you don't mind," Akamatsu said, like Ouma was above threatening something as vital as a testimony out of someone. "We just wanted to know where you were before you arrived at the motive screening."

"Well, that's easy." Hoshi chuckled, glancing towards the corridor that led to the stairs. "I was in my lab, alone. I know that isn't a very reliable testimony, but I didn't feel like spending time with anyone when I knew we were gonna meet up at 3, so I didn't."

"That makes sense. Some people can only have so much human interaction per day." Ouma folded his arms behind his head, not detecting any lies in his statement. He understood wanting to be alone every so often, because he was someone who enjoyed his own privacy too.

"You get it." Hoshi's smile was lazy, but he didn't try to hide the pleasant surprise in his eyes. "Is that all you needed? Angie's wandering off again, and it's really annoying to try and find her once I lose sight of her."

Akamatsu let out a good natured laugh, brushing her hair out of her face. "Yeah, that's all. You can go and catch up to her." Ouma, despite knowing his input wasn't particularly necessary, nodded consent.

"Alright. Good luck with your investigation." Hoshi gave a small incline of his head in return, before ambling off, following after Angie, who was bouncing towards Classroom B and probably following the trail.

Ouma watched him go before turning his gaze towards Akamatsu, finding her already looking at him. 

"Saihara-chan?"

"Saihara-kun."

They continued walking. 

Not for very long though, because predictably, they ran into more people as soon as they rounded the corner into the corridor. Their footsteps must have alerted them, because it took Chabashira no time to turn to them and hurry over. 

"Akamatsu-san!" Her bright grin dimmed with apprehension as she came to a stop in front of them, holding her hands in an attack position. She lowered her voice to a whisper, which didn't really do much, considering he could still hear her well. "Did Ouma-san force you to pair up with him? Blink once for no, twice for yes."

"Bold of you to assume I'd choose to pair up with Akamatsu-chan." Ouma interjected casually, twirling a piece of hair around his finger in an attempt to look distracted. Chabashira didn't respond, merely narrowing her eyes at him.

"It's really okay, Chabashira-san!" Akamatsu hurriedly said, waving her hands as she took a step in front of Ouma, as if worried Chabashira was actually about to attack him. "I offered to help him with the investigation because he couldn't pair up with Kiibo-kun."

Her explanation must have satisfied Chabashira, because she relaxed immediately, dropping her hands. Instead, her eyebrows furrowed and she turned to him with a questioning look. "Oh yeah, what's up with that? Kiibo-san was acting weirdly this morning too."

Iruma, who was the second half of the pair they had stumbled upon, chose this as the perfect time to announce her presence by sashaying up to the group, barking out a laugh. "No kidding! Seriously, did you bite his dick off or somethin'? He was totally different!"

As much as Ouma loved the idea of discussing his personal issues, he actually really didn't, and he was sure it showed in his thin smile. "I'd love to gossip with you girls but we do actually have a murder in need of solving, so I'm gonna have to ask for your testimonies instead."

"Mhm." Akamatsu clapped her hands together at the reminder of the task at hand, a more serious look on her face. "Chabashira-san, what were you doing before you came to the motive screening? You came in thinking you were late, but why?"

He'd never know for sure, but he assumed that Akamatsu being the one to ask probably garnered a better response, because Chabashira didn't hesitate in answering with a hum of thought. "I was at the casino. I was trying to save up casino coins for something." She paused, an embarrassed flush rising high on her cheeks. "But I lost track of time, which is why I panicked so much when I came in. I really thought I was late!"

"That's okay! Better to think you're late when you're not instead of the other way round, right?" Akamatsu was quick to reassure her, and he was sure their conversation continued, but Ouma was busy watching Iruma open her mouth. Like usual, this didn't fill him with any sort of confidence, so he made sure to shut her down before she had a chance to speak.

"We don't need your testimony, Iruma-chan." Ouma mocked, overplaying his disappointment as he pouted at her. "We already know where you were during the time frame of the murder because we were with you. Unfortunately."

"Well, duh!" Iruma responded, all needlessly smug as she puffed her chest out before her brain finally caught up with the rest of his sentence. Her face fell, and she shot him a withering glare. "Hey, what d'ya mean, 'unfortunately'?"

"Unfortunately, that means I probably won't have the chance to convict you today. How sad." Ouma sighed, letting his hair fall into his face, eyes glittering mischief behind his bangs. Iruma, understandably, did not find this as funny as he did.

"Oh, fuck you!"

He broke out into giggles, shaking his head as he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear - an action that functionally did nothing in the long run, considering how wild the rest of his hair was. "Anyway, how's investigation treating you?" He phrased the question teasingly, though he was genuinely curious. As much as he enjoyed mocking her, he was aware that Iruma _was_ smart, to some extent. After all, she had found the evidence in the girls' bathroom during the last case, and that had ended up being crucial. He wanted to know if she had found anything this time around.

However, her reaction wasn't particularly promising. She sniffed, folding her arms and letting her gaze flicker away. "Like shit. I've been looking, but I don't think there's any more evidence besides the obvious. It's annoying, is what it is."

Ouma took a moment to think this over, tapping at his lips, half hidden by his scarf. "This culprit really wanted to keep everything in one place then, huh?" Shaking his head, he tucked that epiphany away for later consideration, letting mischief take over his expression. "So basically, you were just about as useless as always."

Iruma sputtered momentarily, before placing her hands on her hips and leaning forward with a barely concealed pout. "Like you're doing any better, you gremlin!"

"I am, actually!" He replied cheerfully, placing a hand on his chest to emphasise the fact he was referring to himself. "Speaking of which, do you know where Saihara-chan is? I need to talk to him about something."

She raised an eyebrow, canting one hip to the side before jabbing a thumb over her shoulder. "The twink went to the first floor straight after we started, I think. Why? What do you need him for?"

"Oh, nothing important." Ouma singsonged, leaning back on his heels and smiling impishly at Iruma's squint. Chabashira and Akamatsu presumably finished their unimportant conversation, because the former gave him a suspicious squint of her own.

"Typical degenerate, being vague for no reason." Chabashira grumbled, looking wholly unimpressed. "You're gonna have to tell us at the class trial anyway, right? Why can't you just tell us now?"

"I _could_ but," Ouma paused for dramatic effect, holding up a finger as he leaned closer. "I don't want to."

"Ouma-kun, please!" Akamatsu squeaked, gently tugging him back by the shoulder to stop him from provoking anyone any further. She gave Chabashira a nervous smile, shooting him a glare out of the corner of her eye. "We're going to ask him for his testimony, and to verify something Tojo-san mentioned."

Ouma didn't miss the fact that Akamatsu didn't elaborate much more than him, but it was enough to settle Chabashira, who accepted the answer with pursed lips. "Okay, well, good luck with that. Oh! And if the boys give you any trouble-"

"Chabashira-san." Akamatsu chided, her smile becoming exasperated. "I'll be fine. I don't think the boys are like that, and even if they were, they wouldn't dare do anything with you around to protect me."

The compliment worked as a brilliant distraction from the point Akamatsu was trying to make; Chabashira's face flushed, and Ouma took the chance to take his leave. He made a beeline to the stairs, throwing a wave over his shoulder. "Well, thanks a lot ladies but I've got work to do!"

He got down two steps before Akamatsu arrived at his side, nudging him lightly with her side. Her voice dropped to a whisper, low enough that he had to tilt his head towards her to hear clearly. "You're more irritable than usual. Are you sure you're okay?"

It wasn't an accusation, more so a concerned observation, but Ouma shrugged it off nonetheless. He put on a sharp smile, blinking innocently in contrast. "Am I? I didn't notice."

He spotted a familiar figure at the bottom of the stairs and, eager to avoid further personal questioning, took it upon himself to launch himself down the rest of the stairs with arms outstretched, barely avoiding stumbling. "Gontaaa!"

Gonta, though visibly startled, was able to twist around and catch him before he slammed into his back. "Ouma-kun! Be careful!" He fretted, helping Ouma stabilize himself before letting him go. 

Akamatsu hurried after him, two steps at a time, with a blend of worry and exasperation on her face. "Geez, why would you do that?!"

"I'm okay, I'm okay!" Ouma giggled, a part of him soothed by creating some sort of scene, straightening up fully and noticing that Gonta wasn't the only one at the bottom of the stairs. Kiibo stood a few paces away, and looked mildly concerned himself until he noticed Ouma's gaze on him and looked away. Ouma focused his attention on Gonta instead, smiling to convince him he was fine. " _Anyway_ , how are you? Found anything suspicious or important-looking?"

Gonta bit his lip, assessing Ouma for a moment before deciding that he was, in fact, okay. His expression scrunched up as he tapped his chin. "Gonta looked around really hard for clues, but it's hard. He couldn't find anything that looked important."

Considering what Iruma had told him, Ouma wasn't particularly surprised. It did seem like the evidence was concentrated around the body this time around - but that was fine, seeing as he wandered this far to find someone instead of clues. He nodded sagely, readjusting his scarf to sit higher, as it had started to slip. "Yeah, this culprit didn't spread out much. Don't worry too much about it, m'kay? We'll be fine."

He put effort into making his reassurance sound convincing, and was rewarded by Gonta's small, hopeful smile. 

"Kiibo-kun! We need your testimony around 2:30 to 2:45pm, if that's okay." Akamatsu called towards Kiibo, and Ouma ignored the small burst of sadness when Kiibo actually responded with a stiff, polite smile. 

"I was in my dorm room for most of the day, so unfortunately, I don't have an alibi for that period of time." He looked away from the others, fidgeting with the fingertips of his gloves, and Ouma balled his hands into loose fists. Kiibo paused, before looking up with a sense of urgency, releasing his gloves. "Oh, but I did go to the library around 3pm-"

"And that's irrelevant, because the murder would have been over by then." Ouma didn't mean to sound so bitter, and he really didn't understand why it came out like that. He wasn't angry with Kiibo anymore, and his frustration had ebbed over the course of the day, but his voice still came out in a snap. Akamatsu gave him a disapproving glance, as if he had any say in the matter.

If Kiibo was affected by it, he didn't react, continuing like Ouma had never spoken. "And I found Saihara-kun already there."

Ouma decided to keep his mouth shut to avoid any other unnecessarily bitter comments, because this sounded like crucial information, as Gonta blinked in confusion. "Saihara-kun was already there?"

Kiibo seemed to perk up at Gonta's receptiveness, giving a small nod. "Yes. I'm not sure what he was doing, but he appeared to be writing in a notebook of sorts. I think I surprised him, because he was rather hasty in closing it, but we talked for a few minutes." His eyebrows furrowed, and he brought a finger up to rest against his chin. "Eventually, the topic of the time was brought up, and I told him it was a little past 3. Saihara-kun reacted negatively, and left immediately. Because I was concerned by this reaction, I opted to follow him, and…" He hesitated, lowering his hand, eyes following the movement. "That was when we found Amami-kun."

Ouma winced, ignoring the twisting of his gut at the name as he mumbled in response. "Interesting."

Reminding Kiibo of his presence seemed to be a bad idea, because his expression fizzled into something neutral, stern. "Is that all you need?" The question was addressing both of them, but his eyes were on Akamatsu only. 

Akamatsu hesitated, looking between the two of them, before trying for an awkward smile as she clapped her hands together. It was at this point that Ouma noticed Gonta also looking vaguely uncomfortable, fidgeting with the strap of his bug cage as he frowned, like he was trying to figure something out. "Yep, that's it! Thanks for telling us that, Kiibo-kun, it really helps!"

Kiibo's eyes softened, and a shadow of a smile, a genuine smile, appeared on his face, most likely from having his help acknowledged. "My pleasure."

Ouma, recognising the inherent tension between him and Kiibo and that the conversation was winding to a close, decided to begin walking down the hallway leading to the dining hall with a wordless wave goodbye. The sound of footsteps following him was a familiar one, but he knew it was Akamatsu by the lightness of them. He ignored the disappointment that whispered in the back of his mind, not sparing the pianist a glance as she fell into step beside him.

"You should apologise."

It was quiet, clearly avoiding being overheard by the other pair down the hallway, but it sounded loud in his ears. He stopped mid-step, not caring that he was in the middle of the hallway as he turned to shoot her a dark glare. Though she yelped, the sympathetic look in her eyes remained, and it annoyed him more than he cared to admit. "I'm not saying you're wrong! I don't know what your disagreement was about, so I literally can't say. But you regret that it happened in the first place, right?"

Ouma didn't respond aside from averting his gaze, but that seemed to be enough for her as she continued on. "Then apologise for the fact that it happened. Apologies are always a good starting point for making up with someone."

He wasn't really fond of that idea, but he kept that opinion to himself, instead settling for a non committal hum. At the moment, all he wanted was to get that damned pitying gaze off of him, and his wish was granted as Akamatsu was distracted by the very person they were looking for rounding the corner in front of them. She lit up, raising a hand to wave him over. "Saihara-kun! There you are!"

Saihara stopped in his tracks, looking reminiscent of a deer in headlights. "Akamatsu-san." His voice was quiet, arguably more so than usual. Either way, his reluctance for conversation was nothing new. "Did you need something?"

"Nothing much." Ouma drawled, following Akamatsu as she went to meet him at the other end of the hall. "Just wanted to ask you about something Tojo-chan mentioned." He waited until he came to a stop in front of the detective, peering up through his bangs at hidden eyes in an act of intimidation, before finally clarifying. "According to her, Amami-chan mentioned a meeting with you just before the murder occurred. What do you have to say about that?"

Perhaps the wording was a bit blunt, if Akamatsu's frown was anything to go by, but it got a reaction. Saihara looked downwards, tugging at the ends of his coat sleeves. "Ah, so you know about that." Ouma might have taken the brief pause as an opportunity to make a snappy remark if Saihara didn't continue as quickly as he did. "I'm guessing you want details? There isn't, uh, much to say. Amami-kun and I just made plans to meet at Classroom B at 2:45 today." 

Just. As if one member of that arrangement wasn't dead, conveniently dying ten minutes before the agreed meeting time. Ouma let another question slip through his teeth, curiosity winning. "Why were you meeting up for?"

Though it wasn't obvious behind the shadow cast by his hat, he was fairly certain Saihara paled at that. "Oh, nothing important, really. We were just going to spend time together."

Ouma's eyes narrowed a fraction at that vague reply, but he didn't press.

It was pretty obvious to figure out the answer, but Akamatsu still asked with a small, contemplative frown. "So did that meeting ever happen?"

"No. I, uh, got distracted by a," Saihara cleared his throat sheepishly, tilting his head downwards to hide his face further, "book I was reading. I didn't even realise I was running late until Kiibo came in and told me. By the time I arrived, he was already...gone."

Ouma didn't even need to be able to recognise lying tics to know Saihara was lying about what he was preoccupied with. Kiibo had mentioned that he had found Saihara writing in a notebook, and out of the two, Saihara would have more motive to lie about what he was doing than Kiibo did. But then that raised the question of why he found the need to lie about such small details anyway.

Ah, pot meets kettle.

He decided against suddenly prodding him for answers on that, because it was most likely unimportant and Akamatsu was already moving the conversation along. "How long were you in the library for, by the way?"

"Since around 2pm, I believe. I don't have anyone to testify that though, aside from Kiibo-kun at 3." Saihara responded, catching onto her intentions easily. He reached up for his hat, tugging it further downwards, like it was possible to hide any more of his face. "What about you two? What were you doing around the time of the murder?"

"We were together, in the A/V Room, along with Tojo-san, Iruma-san and Gonta-kun." Akamatsu explained, counting the others off on her fingers to make sure she didn't miss anyone. Saihara didn't show any reaction except for a small nod, more to show that he was listening than anything else. 

Ouma, growing restless, started to realise how odd it was that they found Saihara _here._ According to Iruma, Saihara had come down here at the beginning of their investigation period, and it was safe to assume he hadn't come back up at any point. Which meant- "Hey, have you done any investigating? The others haven't been able to find much, but maybe you have, since you're the Ultimate Detective and all."

Saihara faltered.

"Ah, well-"

He was robbed of a chance to defend himself, or otherwise prove Ouma wrong, by the sound of the announcement chime echoing down the hallways from the monitor in the entrance hall. Ouma sighed, turning to see that Gonta and Kiibo were still lingering at the bottom of the stairs while he followed Akamatsu and Saihara in going to join them. He placed his hands on his hips, furrowing his eyebrows as he began to pat around his hips and thighs, searching. He even went as far as lifting up his outer coat to glance inside it before finally admitting defeat with a mutter. "Shit."

"What is it?" Gonta asked even as Monokuma began to talk over the speakers, now in hearing range for Ouma's complaints. Akamatsu was looking at him with equal curiosity, but Ouma was quick to dismiss any concern with a half grin.

"Nothing important!" Following this claim, he immediately contradicted it with a heavy sigh. "I just left my sceptre in the A/V Room. No biggie! I'll go grab it, and then meet you guys at the Shrine of Judgement or whatever."

"Oh, Gonta can come with you! That way you won't be alone." Gonta offered with a bright smile, and while Ouma would have preferred to go by himself, he also didn't see any real reason to turn him down. The announcement was over by the time they set off, splitting off from everyone making their way to the Shrine at the entrance hall, to instead head to the basement.

Gonta lingered in the doorway connecting the Game and A/V Rooms as Ouma came to squat down in front of the couch he had sat on for the motive screening party. He reached for his sceptre, taking a cursory scan of the room as his fingers curled around cool metal only to freeze. 

Did anyone notice that before?

"Ouma-kun? We have to go!"

He didn't have time to dwell, snapping out of his thoughts at Gonta's insistence. He understood why he was antsy, of course - who knew what Monokuma would do if they were late to the class trial? Ouma rose back to his feet, allowing a grin to form on his face as he slipped his sceptre back into its holster, the familiar weight soothing against his hip.

"Coming!"

* * *

**Truth Bullets**

**Monokuma File 2**

The victim is Amami Rantaro, Ultimate talent unknown. His body was discovered in the hallway outside the Ultimate Pianist's Lab. The estimated time of death is 2:35pm. The victim was killed by repeated blunt force trauma to the top of the head, resulting in cranial fracturing. Additionally, he has a contusion at the back of his head, and his left arm appears to be dislocated.

  
**Motive Screening Party**

A majority of the class was gathering at the A/V Room to watch their motive videos together. Those who arrived after the time the murder occured includes Momota, Hoshi, Chabashira and Angie. Harukawa, Saihara, Amami, Shinguuji and Kiibo appear to have had no plans to attend at all.

  
**Message in Blood**

A message is written in blood beside Amami's body. It reads: 'THREAT'. It's assumed to have been written with a finger by the culprit, as the strokes seem thin.

  
**Dirtied Clothes**

Amami's shirt and trousers are smeared with blood in several places. The blood doesn't seem to be directly from any of his injuries. 

  
**Dislocated Shoulder**

Amami's left shoulder was severely dislocated, with signs of lacerations at the point of impact. It appears like the arm was yanked out of its socket; a dislocation due to a heavy fall is usually less severe.

  
**Blood Trail**

A trail of blood leads from the body to Classroom B, and continues until the front row of desks.

  
**Arranged Desk**

The desk closest to the Classroom B's door was rearranged, borrowing the chair of the desk beside it. The borrowed chair looks like it was originally positioned across from the other chair, but was discovered toppled over.

  
**Toppled Chair**

The chair looks like it was tipped back on its rear legs, and landed on its back. There appears to be small specks of blood on the back support.

  
**Harukawa's Ultimate Lab**

Harukawa was in her Ultimate Lab for the entire day, and had not left at any point after breakfast. She claims that Momota bothered her from around 2pm to 3pm, sitting outside her door and rambling. He left for a brief period of time around 2:30 to 2:45pm. Momota testified her account, claiming he left to get his Kubs Pad from his dorm in preparation of the motive screening party.

  
**Amami's Last Witness**

Tojo claims to be the last person to see Amami before the murder. She ran into him in the courtyard at around 2:25pm, and they exchanged pleasantries. He mentioned going to meet with Saihara, but didn't give any details.

  
**Kiibo's Account**

Kiibo had been in his dorm for most of the day, but met Saihara when he went to the library at around 3pm, and found him writing something in a notebook. This caught Saihara off guard, and he instantly went to close it, but the two started a conversation. He told Saihara the time when asked, and Saihara seemingly panicked. Concerned with his behaviour, Kiibo followed him when he promptly left the library to the place where they found the body.

  
**Saihara's Account**

Saihara and Amami planned a meeting at Classroom B, at 2:45pm. The reason for this meeting is unclear. However, Saihara ran late, claiming to have been distracted by a book he had been reading in the library since 2pm. By the time he arrived, followed by Kiibo, Amami was dead.

  
**The Kubs Pad**

There appears to be bloodstains on the side of one of the Kubs Pad in the pile they made for the motive screening party. It's near the bottom of the pile, and the bright colour of the blood almost blends in with the bright casing of the Kubs Pad. There wasn't enough time to check who the motive video's intended recipient was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> investigation start!!
> 
> I originally planned to get this out on Sunday, but due to some irl setbacks, I didn't get around to starting this chapter until Friday and I,,,don't usually write that fast so. It's here today instead!!
> 
> As always, I love reading any theories you guys have, so feel free to drop them in the comments!! I don't reply to theories to avoid accidentally letting anything slip, but I read every single one :D
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I'll see you next chapter!


	15. 2.7 : Memento

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second trial starts off strong.

They reached the Shrine of Judgement just in time, crossing the threshold as the rumble of the elevator revealing itself reverberated around the area. 

They did not, unfortunately, arrive late enough to miss the sight of the buff Monokuma statue that seemed to be reserved for display after a murder occured. Not that Ouma was complaining. He didn't want to see  _ that _ monstrosity any more than strictly necessary, and if it was on display in between cases, he may have to avoid the Shrine of Judgement altogether.

"About time! What took you virgins so damn long?" Iruma mocked, peering at them over her shoulder in what would be a rather impressive show of offhand confidence if it was any degree of genuine.

"I dunno, that doesn't seem like any of your business, Iruma-chan!" Ouma chirped back before Gonta had a chance to be polite and answer truthfully. "What, are you... _ worried  _ about me?" He let out a faux gasp, fluttering his eyelashes as he raised a hand to cover his mouth.

As expected, she scrunched her nose at the very idea, flushing with embarrassment as she turned away. "As if! A gorgeous genius like me can't waste brainpower worrying about a shitstain like you when there's a murder to solve."

Ouma ran his tongue over his front teeth, quick to formulate a scathing response, but was unable to dish it out as Angie cheerfully cut in. "Yes, yes, but at least they arrived on time, no?"

"Yeah!" Gonta agreed, just as cheerfully, before hesitating, eyeing the elevator. Nobody had approached it yet, content to watch the conversation unfold instead of doing what needed to be done. "We need to get on again, right?"

"Right!" Chabashira echoed, visibly nervous, and despite the mystery of the elevator no longer being applicable when they knew what was at the bottom, still nobody made a move. Considering what was going to happen at the bottom, perhaps that was unsurprising. There were glances thrown around, as if they all knew they were going to have to board but were waiting to follow someone else's example first. 

As a responsible leader, he should have taken that responsibility and gotten on the elevator. He didn't have anything in particular against that idea, but he preferred to mentally place bets on who would make the first move instead.

Ouma had guessed that Harukawa would break the stalemate, as it seemed well within her character to grow irritated enough to do so, but instead it was Saihara who let out a sigh and muttered under his breath. "We might as well go now. We shouldn't keep Monokuma waiting." And with that, he walked into the elevator with a stiffness to his posture that gave away his nerves. 

The first move, especially from Saihara of all people, inevitably shook everyone else into action. Ouma followed the flow into the elevator, content to trail in from the back of the crowd, and listened to Momota's determined shout as the doors slid closed. "Don't worry, guys! We'll be fine, as long as we believe in each other!"

The pretentious positivity in that statement made him want to gag, but instead he stared at a fixed point on the interior of the elevator as the ground shuddered beneath him, plunging them into darkness. The cacophony of the elevator's descent rattled uncomfortably in his head, loud enough that even when it slowed to a stop at the trial grounds, he could still hear the faint clanking of gears in his ears, but at least he couldn't hear the hopeful murmurs of agreement towards Momota's stupidity over it.

The courtroom hadn't changed in the four days (holy shit it had only been  _ four days _ -) it had presumably been empty, except for the addition of new portraits occupying two of the podiums in the circle. Shirogane's portrait was marred with red paint in the shape of an X, strokes staggered to look like stitches. He couldn't stomach taking too close of a look at Amami's portrait, not when he knew that dead printed eyes would be staring back, but from his brief glance, he noticed a jagged red X over his face too. That, however, would be Saihara's problem, seeing as he was the one directly opposite Amami's podium. Considering their sudden closeness, perhaps that could be considered unfortunate, but it wasn't like he was looking past the brim of his hat much anyway.

The bears were cackling from their elevated perches, something about congratulations on their second murder and how excited they were to start the trial, but Ouma avoided listening too closely them. He didn't respect Monokuma  _ that  _ much, and he respected the Monokubs even less. He made a beeline towards his podium instead, noting the lack of defiance this time around as everyone did the same. He stepped up, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly as he trailed his fingertips over the handrail.

Monokuma was reusing his previous speech about how the class trial worked, which Ouma also zoned out of, because he had already done this once and unfortunately hadn't forgotten in the span of time from then to now. He glanced over at Kiibo out of the corner of his eye, past Chabashira, to see the robot looking down at the handrail with a solemn expression. He didn't let his gaze linger, not wanting to get caught staring, and refocused on the group as a whole as the sharp sound of the gavel pierced the air.

Trial is in session.

"I believe a good place for us to start would be with the most likely suspect, which is Saihara-kun." Tojo stated cooly, and yeah, okay, that's a pretty strong start compared to their initial floundering last trial. From what he could tell, Saihara visibly tensed, as expected from someone who was just accused for murder, but appeared to be generally unsurprised. 

"Saihara?" Momota repeated, placing a hand on his waist as he quirked a confused brow. "Why's he the most likely?"

Akamatsu's eyes shone with recognition. "Because he and Amami-kun planned to meet up around the time of the murder. Tojo-san said that Amami-kun mentioned it to her when she last saw him." 

Hoshi frowned lightly, eyes dark as he watched her with muted surprise. "Is that true?" 

"Yes. We had planned to meet in Classroom B at 2:45, specifically." Saihara clarified, not trying to deny it. Maybe it was just his lack of trust towards the detective, but he found himself surprised that he was sharing details, even though he had disclosed them to him and Akamatsu during the investigation anyway. "I missed the meeting, because I hadn't realised the time. When I arrived late, he was already gone."

"Aha!" Iruma snapped her fingers, before pointing at the detective with a grin. "Case fuckin' solved, then! With that kinda timing, that's pretty much a confession! He's gotta be lying about missing it."

It was convenient timing, but Ouma knew for a fact that it wasn't as simple as that. Kiibo shared a similar opinion with the class, albeit with evidence backing it up as opposed to the insult Ouma would have followed his opinion up with when replying to Iruma. "No, I don't think that's correct. It's too soon to tell, and I find it unlikely, because I was with Saihara-kun from 3pm to when we discovered the body together. Surely if he actually attended the meeting, it would not have been short enough for me to meet him at the library at 3."

"It would be short enough if the meeting itself was a ploy to get Amami-kun alone." Shinguuji muttered darkly, and shot a not-so-subtle glance at Saihara, teeming with suspicion. "If the Monokuma File is to be trusted, Amami-kun died at 2:35. That is more than enough time to arrange the crime scene and escape to the library to secure an alibi of sorts."

Ouma, feeling like he might as well hurry this along, clicked his tongue as he leaned forward slightly. "You could argue that seeing as Amami-chan was killed ten minutes before the arranged meeting time, it's unlikely for Saihara-chan to have killed him, even if he planned to, because he couldn't have known that Amami-chan would arrive at the meeting early. And that's if you're assuming he's lying about missing the meeting, which he's not."

"Huh? How do you know?" Angie asked with an exaggerated curiosity, poking her cheek with one finger.

"Because Kiibo said he caught Saihara-chan by surprise. He was distracted by whatever he was doing." Ouma replied, and he denied the fact that something in him was soothed by Kiibo nodding along in confirmation, because of course he would. He was always unbearably honest. "It's not possible for Saihara-chan to kill someone, arrange the crime scene, go down to the library  _ and _ get absorbed into a book or whatever enough to be surprised when someone came in, not with such a small time frame." 

"Not to mention, if he wanted to secure an alibi, why would Saihara-kun go to such an enclosed space like the library?" Akamatsu added, eyes alight with determination to move the conversation along. "He would have gone to the courtyard or entrance hall if he wanted someone to see him, because the possibility of someone choosing to go to the library was slim. I don't think he could've done it."

A few of their classmates exchanged dubious glances, but nobody immediately contradicted the claim. "That makes sense, I guess." Chabashira voiced after a moment of hesitance, wringing her hands together. "But- But if it's impossible for Saihara-san to be the culprit, then who's the next suspect we should talk about?"

"Duh-doy!" Iruma cut in before anyone else had the chance to respond, like she had been waiting for the opportunity to dish out this accusation. Her tone was haughty to an unnecessary degree. "If it isn't Dasaihara, it's gotta be Little Miss Assassin over here. I mean, shit, killing's gotta be second nature for her!"

"...What?"

Harukawa's fringe cast a shadow over her eyes, highlighting the red of her irises as she gripped the handrail tightly, pressing her fingernails into the wood like it was the only thing keeping her from attacking Iruma. Maybe it was. It dawned on him that she hadn't been aware of her secret being leaked to some of her classmates before this point. Ouma wasn't overly fond of Harukawa by any means, but he couldn't help but feel sympathy for her in that moment. After all, if the others found out his real talent and he only found out because he was accused of murder in a trial, he would also be feeling a cocktail of emotions - none of which would be positive.

Iruma somehow didn't pick up on the fact that continuing her taunting was a bad idea, grinning widely. The lone upside to this was that it drowned out the round of chittering that the dramatic reveal had caused in the cubs, whose annoying voices were the last thing any of them needed. "Yeah, you thought you could keep that a fuckin' secret from us? Talk about suspicious!"

"Unfortunately," Tojo sighed, looking as annoyed by Iruma's lack of tact as Ouma felt. "We watched your motive video along with the others, and it stated that your talent was not as the Ultimate Child Caregiver, but rather as the Ultimate Assassin."

"Is that so?" Shinguuji hummed flatly, looking very disinterested for such an inherently interested question. "What a...curious thing to be keeping from us."

Harukawa huffed humorlessly, hands still gripping the rail. "As if you all would have reacted any better if I told you I was an assassin upfront. It's not a talent you want to advertise."

"Atua says that's because by keeping your talent secret, nobody will think to suspect you!" Angie's voice was upbeat as always, but as she leaned forward with arms folded behind her back, her expression was dangerous. Catching a glimpse of her arm as she moved it, he realised that her normal paint doodles were now exclusively in shades of green, and he briefly wondered when she changed it. "You could have killed Rantaro, couldn't you Maki? As an assassin, it would have been easy to sneak up on him and escape quickly too!"

"C'mon guys, she wouldn't have done it!" Momota, who was starting to establish himself as Harukawa's personal defender, protested before anyone could agree with Angie, folding his arms in front of him.

"Do you have any evidence to support that?" Kiibo asked, eyes full of that logical focus he adopted during investigation. His presence was neutral, neither accusatory nor hopeful.

Momota glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck, which was answer enough even without the verbal confirmation. "Well, not off the top of my head." He dropped his hand, grinning much too brightly for someone who was probably about to say something unbearably stupid. "I just know she couldn't have done it. I believe in her!"

"What?" Harukawa muttered, looking mildly horrified at Momota's reasoning. Once again, Ouma sympathised with her because he and Harukawa were more similar than either of them cared to admit, and if someone defended him with that kind of reasoning, he would have rather died on the spot.

"That doesn't make sense." Saihara breathed incredulously, and a quick glance proved that everyone else was in similar states of shock, excluding Gonta, who seemed to have found the sentiment endearing. 

"Are you a fuckin' idiot?" Iruma scoffed, placing one hand on her hip to make her look cockier than usual. "What kind of excuse is  _ that _ ?!"

"Yeah, I think he might actually be an idiot." Chabashira whispered lowly, almost condescending in her pity as she awkwardly pressed her fingertips together.

"Hey, don't call me an idiot!" Momota snapped, ears flushing red with embarrassment at the immediate backlash. 

Akamatsu bit her lip, resting her hands on the handrail before offering a small smile. "Momota-kun, I understand that you want to believe in Harukawa-san, but if we're going to get through this, we need actual evidence to be able to dismiss a suspect." Momota's expression betrayed surprise at Akamatsu's firm words, most likely assuming she would have agreed with him.

"Also, we're calling you an idiot because you  _ are  _ an idiot." Ouma couldn't help but lean into the opportunity to taunt, smiling at Momota's glare. "There's a super obvious piece of evidence that proves that Harukawa-chan didn't do it."

"Yeah, there is!" Momota's face broke into a grin, clearly willing to ignore Ouma's taunts to focus on the fact that he finally had someone agreeing with him. He turned to him expectantly, nodding encouragingly. "Go ahead and tell 'em, Ouma!"

He rolled his eyes, but continued nonetheless, because refusing out of pettiness would cause more backlash than amusement. "Momota-chan was with Harukawa-chan from 2:45 onwards, and had been with her from 2 to 2:30 beforehand too. The only possibility for either of them to kill Amami-chan would be during that 15 minute interval, which is kinda unrealistic, so it couldn't be either of them."

"Why not? If Harukawa's an assassin, then shouldn't she be able to kill someone within that time frame?" Hoshi prompted, raising an eyebrow in an express show of doubt.

"Amami died at 2:35, so she would've only had ten minutes to kill him, arrange the body and get back to her lab." Momota argued, more than happy to talk for himself now that he knew what was going on. "I didn't see any hint of her or the door being closed when I got back to her lab, so I don't think she left the room at all. Even if she did, there wasn't enough time for it to be her."

"And by that principle, it's unlikely for Momota-kun to be the culprit too." Tojo murmured, tucking a finger under her chin in thought. "Their alibis are otherwise strong enough that they are both unlikely suspects."

Momota beamed like he had won the lottery, but it was short lived when Shinguuji immediately frowned. "How can we be sure Harukawa-san didn't commit the crime without solid evidence to prove it? Or Saihara-kun, for that matter? We are dismissing them on flexible claims."

"I dunno, Shinguuji-chan, they have more evidence than you do. Maybe we should start accusing you instead." Ouma mocked, leaning forward to prop his elbow on the handrail and smiling, sickly sweet as Shinguuji shot him a glare. 

"It may still be possible, but with the time constraints, it's highly unlikely." Kiibo said firmly, before his gaze became thoughtful. "If comes the worst, we can always revisit the possibility later on, but for now, it would be safer to discuss more directly applicable topics."

"Speaking of topics, maybe we should start talking about the murder itself instead of just pointing fingers." Hoshi suggested, looking between all of them with a hint of disapproval. "Knowing how it happened might help us figure out who did it."

"That makes sense! That way, we might be able to find more clues." Gonta smiled, with the same pure enthusiasm as always, before scratching his cheek nervously. "Where do we start, though?"

"With the cause of death, maybe?" Akamatsu proposed the idea smoothly, but that didn't hide the wince that followed her mention of death. 

"Oh, that's easy!" Chabashira said enthusiastically, too enthusiastically when discussing a cause of death, but he digressed. "He was hit over the head, right? The Monokuma File said his skull fractured on impact."

"Right, right. But what could have been used to hit him?" Angie hummed with a pout, clapping her hands together in front of her face. "Did anyone find anything that the culprit might have used?"

Ouma remained silent as everyone glanced around expectantly, before Harukawa sighed, somewhat irritably. "I guess not."

"Forget about the murder weapon, why the hell was the body so beat up?" Iruma huffed, raking a hand through her bangs to push them out of her eyes. "The guy looked like he had been fuckin' mangled!"

"Mangled is a bit of an exaggeration," Akamatsu corrected lightly with a small smile, before sobering quickly. "You're talking about the other injuries on the body, right?"

"Of course I am!" Iruma huffed like Akamatsu was an idiot. She folded her arms over her chest, an action which came off petulant rather than cocky. "If Noromami was killed with a blow to the head, then there's no reason for the other injuries to be there. It's not like he could've struggled much before dropping dead."

"Do not speak ill of the dead." Shinguuji hissed, voice ice cold and sure to send visible shivers down Iruma's spine.

"But he could have struggled before getting hit, couldn't he?" Momota mused, leaning all his weight on one hand against the railing. "There was a chair in Classroom B that looked like it had fallen over where the blood trail started. That must mean something happened between him and the culprit."

Angie hummed, swinging her arms back and forth within the limited space of her podium. "I see, I see. That would make sense! So the chair was knocked over during a scuffle between Rantaro and the culprit." She paused, frowning as she stopped her movement. "But how can we be sure?"

"Maybe we should discuss the extra injuries themselves?" Saihara said, tilting his head just enough to allow one eye to be visible. "Doing that could help us figure out what the most likely sequence of events are." After a moment of hesitation, he added on quietly. "I don't think we  _ can _ know for sure, and the point of the trial isn't really to know exactly what happened anyway. It's to understand what most likely happened so we can find the most likely culprit."

"And you couldn't have told us that the first time around instead of the second?" Ouma shot back with a smile, needlessly sarcastic and driven entirely by pettiness. Saihara looked away, but didn't respond in either offense or defense.

"External injuries, did you say?" Tojo asked for clarification, folding her hands against the railing. She seemingly ignored Ouma's remark, which was probably a good idea on her part. "There was some bruising at the back of Amami's head that I recall seeing. I wasn't sure what to make of it, because it didn't seem to be connected to the wound that killed him."

"Right, that was mentioned in the Monokuma File too." Chabashira nodded, before biting her lip and furrowing her brows as she contemplated the information. All of a sudden, she brightened, pumping a triumphant fist into the air. "Oh! Maybe the culprit tried to kill him by hitting the back of his head first, but it didn't work, so they switched to attacking the top of his head instead?"

Harukawa shook her head, nibbling on her thumbnail. "That doesn't make sense. Even if the force itself wasn't enough to immediately kill him, it would have been easier to continue to repeatedly hit him in the same place instead of trying to switch the area they were attacking."

Ouma was tempted to make an uncouth remark about her expertise in murder, but narrowly kept his comment to himself, because she had a good point and he could begrudgingly accept that.

That, and he had Iruma to make a slightly less cutting but just as uncouth remark for him. She let out a short cackle, sounding less like an actual laugh and more like a forced noise. "Yeah, that's just what I'd expect from an assassin. Who else would know that much shit about murder?"

Harukawa's glare held unspoken threats. "That's logic, not background knowledge."

"I don't know, the back of the head seems like a weird place for bruising to be, to begin with." Hoshi mumbled, thinking it over for a moment before raising an eyebrow at the circle of podiums. "If it's unconnected to the killing wound, is it possible that it isn't related to the case at all? Maybe he just bumped his head earlier."

"But you said it yourself. The placement of the bruising at the back of the head is strange." Shinguuji frowned thoughtfully, readjusting one of the straps of his eyepatch. "It would be difficult for one to get an injury there by themself, unless they fell backwards."

Ouma slammed a hand on the handrail, using the other to fish out his sceptre and point it in Shinguuji's direction. " _ Exactly! _ "

Shinguuji, despite bringing this on himself, blinked slowly at him before replying flatly. "Do feel free to elaborate on that."

"The only way that Amami-chan could've gotten an injury at the back of his head would be if he fell backwards." He explained, talking quicker in his impatience to move on as he hooked his sceptre back onto his belt. "Momota-chan mentioned that the chair was knocked over, but more importantly, it was knocked over  _ backwards.  _ The bruising only makes sense if you assume he fell with the chair and hit his head on the floor."

"If Amami-kun hurt himself by falling backwards, then does that mean his extra injuries aren't the culprit's fault?" Gonta asked with a faint pout, seemingly confused by the complication such a scenario suggested.

"Not necessarily." Akamatsu smiled, nervous but light as she adjusted her backpack straps. Ouma never understood her need to carry it around everywhere. "It's like Momota-kun said. The blood trail started at the fallen chair, so it's unlikely that the culprit isn't involved somehow."

Angie hummed, tapping her cheek as she squinted. "For example, the culprit could have seen Rantaro fall, and taken advantage of his disoriented state to kill him!"

"Perhaps," Tojo's lips were tugged into a frown, eyes sharp as they slid over the rest of her classmates. "Or perhaps, the force of the killing blow itself knocked the chair over."

There was a brief silence as this idea was considered, before Shinguuji shook his head. "Considering the amount of weight needed to knock a chair over with someone already seated on it, I find that less likely. But either way, does it matter?" He leaned forward, arms folded neatly behind his back. "Our objective with this discussion was to determine how Amami-kun acquired the bruising at the back of his head. We agree that the bruising was from falling with the chair and he most likely died in the same place, correct? Surely we should move on."

Ouma could understand what Shinguuji was trying to say, despite his bluntness. They were wasting time discussing hypotheticals when they didn't have any evidence that would help them come to a concrete conclusion - at least, not yet. Iruma, either bored with the current topic or feeling similarly to Ouma, sneered as she leaned against the side of the podium. "Yeah, like onto that dislocated shoulder of his. Talk about freaky!"

"Gonta does agree that the dislocated shoulder was very hard to look at." Gonta admitted quietly, fidgeting with his fingers as he looked downwards. "How could that have happened?"

"Couldn't he have dislocated it when he fell down too?" Momota raised a questioning eyebrow. "I mean, anything can be dislocated if there's an impact at the wrong angle, right?"

"Sure, but an impact dislocation wouldn't be that severe." Harukawa muttered, and Ouma noted that she seemed to be contributing more to the trial since she realised her secret was out. He supposed that now she didn't have to hide her knowledge of murder, it made making points easier.

"I don't think the dislocation happened all at once."

"Huh?" Gonta made the sound, but he wasn't the only one who turned to look at Saihara. Once again, Ouma thought about how funny it was that someone so quiet could attract attention so easily - though after his behaviour last trial, he supposed it was basically an inevitability.

"I don't think the dislocation happened all at once." Saihara repeated slightly slower, as if the problem was that nobody could process what he was saying. "Harukawa-san is right that an impact dislocation wouldn't be that severe, but in theory,  _ nothing _ that could have feasibly happened would dislocate it to that extent. However, if Amami-kun originally dislocated his shoulder by falling and additional strain was added to the injury, then it could have easily worsened to the current severity. So?"

Ouma could feel Saihara's gaze drilling into him, which was irritating when he couldn't see Saihara's eyes to retaliate. The detective was waiting for someone - waiting for  _ him _ \- to finish the thought for him, and share it with the class. He was petty enough to consider ignoring his expectant gaze, but he also recognised that this was a serious situation and they didn't have time for that, so instead he groaned and leaned to rest his forearms on the handrail. "So what you're saying is that while Amami-chan dislocated his shoulder with the fall, it's only as bad as it is because the culprit dragged him to the hallway by his already dislocated arm." A tense but brief silence followed this revelation. Brief, because Ouma was happy to use the time to pout and grumble at Saihara. "You couldn't have told us that yourself and saved us a few seconds, Saihara-chan?"

He didn't give a verbal response, only offering a faint smile. At the very least, the brief exchange allowed everyone to process the idea, as Chabashira gave a slow nod. "I...guess that makes sense. I mean, I've dislocated my arm once or twice, but it's never looked that bad. And of course it wouldn't, because I'd never let anyone drag me around by it!"

"It does make sense, though I don't quite understand why one would go about it like that." Shinguuji murmured, disgust swirling in his eye despite his otherwise blank expression. "It must be easier to move the body with the other, fixed arm, and it would save our eyes from seeing a shoulder pulled entirely out of its socket."

"They probably grabbed the arm closest to 'em and just tugged." Iruma snorted, even though her expression was set in a contrasting grimace. In his peripheral, he saw Gonta shiver.

"To recap," Kiibo started, hand hovering over his mouth while ultimately doing nothing to hide his apprehension. "We've determined that all of Amami-kun's external injuries, excluding the wound that killed him, were a result of him falling backwards in the chair. He hit his head on the floor and dislocated his shoulder on impact. His dislocated shoulder was further pulled from its socket when the culprit relocated his body to the hallway, dragging him by his injured arm." He paused, biting his lip before adding. "We haven't been able to determine what, exactly, led to him falling in the first place."

"Yeah, that sounds about right." Ouma said in a tone edging on boredom, running a hand through his bangs to purposefully pull them lower. He wasn't bored in the slightest, especially because it was Kiibo who was recapping and there was still that weird standstill between them, but he couldn't help but feign it. Being too genuine at once would make him more antsy, and that would be more than inconvenient in the current circumstance.

"This culprit was very brutal." Angie uttered quietly, her smile dimming as a serious expression leaked through the cracks of her cheery mask. "Poor Rantaro."

The murmured agreement that rippled around the circle was followed by a respectful silence, broken only by Akamatsu as she slipped her backpack off one shoulder and swung it off the other, setting it down lightly on the base of her podium. She spoke delicately to breach the silence, and Ouma couldn't blame her for that. "Is there anything else we can address about the body? I can't think of anything myself."

"There is one thing I'm curious about." Shinguuji mused, folding his hands in front of him. "Why is it that there is excessive amounts of blood on his shirt and trousers?"

Ouma glanced over with renewed interest; that was also something he had realised before Akamatsu had distracted him during the investigation, and he had forgotten about it while he focused on everything else. Iruma snorted derisively. "Yeah, 'cause he got his skull caved in and his arm torn off. That's gonna cause some blood loss."

"Yeah, but that doesn't explain why the blood on his clothes are too far from the wounds to be directly connected, does it?" Ouma chided, tone sharp even though he smiled sweetly at her. "Come on, did you even check the body?"

Iruma spluttered out a useless reply, which Ouma ignored to be able to pay attention to Gonta, who was visibly confused as his expression pinched with thought. "But the blood has to be from his wounds, don't they? Nobody else was hurt."

"The blood has to be his, but that doesn't mean the stains have to be directly connected to the wounds." Harukawa mumbled, fidgeting with her sleeves and tugging them over her hands. "It could have been transferred from the wound by something else, like the murder weapon."

"So...you're saying the culprit could've cleaned the blood off the weapon with Amami's clothes? That does make sense." Momota summarised quietly, before brightening up with a confident grin. "Good work, Harukawa! I knew I picked a good sidekick!"

Ouma blinked, wondering when  _ that _ became a thing, because Harukawa didn't seem surprised at all. She did, however, seem a bit miffed by Momota's encouragement. "I'm not your sidekick. Didn't I tell you not to call me that?" 

Momota seemed unbothered by her harsh glare, his grin unwavering as he simply winked back. A topic for a private conversation, perhaps. He could only imagine his poor attempts at convincing her to play along with his hero bit. Harukawa huffed, rolling her eyes. "And I mentioned the weapon, but it could also include the culprit themself. Blunt force trauma to the head always causes outward blood spatter. I wouldn't be surprised if their hands, arms and even face got a bit bloodied."

"But why would the culprit do that anyway? Cleaning everything on Amami-san's clothes, I mean." Chabashira questioned, thankfully ignoring whatever was happening between Momota and Harukawa. Ouma didn't think he would have been able to deal with Chabashira trying to defend Harukawa when they have a more time sensitive goal to accomplish. "Wouldn't it be easier for them to wash in the downstairs bathroom? That would be way more thorough than wiping their weapon and hands down."

"But that would require them to walk downstairs with obvious blood on their hands. It would be extremely dangerous on their part." Kiibo emphasised his final sentence, fingertips ghosting over the material of his gloves as he spoke. 

"They could have washed their hands afterwards too." Tojo rested her forefinger against her chin, eyes on the handrail as she thought aloud. "But it would make sense for them to wipe off most of the blood on Amami-kun's clothes, to avoid raising immediate suspicion when making their way to the bathroom."

"It would also explain why the bloodstains are so sporadic on his clothes." Ouma finally decided to add his two cents, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the handrail, effectively leaving most of his weight on it. "The culprit would have to keep wiping everything off in different places, in case they accidentally picked up the blood they just wiped off." He hummed, tipping his head to the side. "Though, it was pretty smart of them. Obviously, it would be more likely for us to dismiss blood on Amami-chan's person because he was the victim. They made things easier for themself without risking things in the long run."

Gonta hesitated, clearly wanting to say something, before lightly replying. "Gonta doesn't think you should be complimenting the culprit."

If it were anyone else, Ouma would have responded less politely, but Gonta was Gonta so he let out a small laugh as he waved a hand. "Sorry, sorry, but it's true, isn't it?"

"Unfortunately, it is. In that aspect, this culprit is certainly clever." Shinguuji agreed, albeit begrudgingly, before he inclined his head. "The explanation makes sense, though I suppose I should ask. The blood spatter would likely have reached the culprit's sleeves too, correct? Wiping the blood from their clothing would still leave a stain." The fact that nobody had bloodstains on their cuffs was heavily implied but left unsaid.

"Everyone has spare uniforms in their dorms, right?" Hoshi fiddled with the packet of his candy cigarettes, idly sliding one out. "The culprit could've gone and changed their uniform."

"Yes, because nobody would want to go around with bloodstains on their clothes. That would give them away instantly!" Angie chimed in, and a few nods came from around the circle, most notably from Shinguuji, who seemed to find that to be an acceptable answer. 

The conversation lulled to another stop, with another small mystery figured out without any real movement towards finding the culprit. Ouma knew it was best to figure out the details of the case first, but part of him wanted to just throw out an accusation and see if it sticks, for flavour. 

Luckily, he didn't have the chance before Iruma clicked her tongue, readjusting her goggles. "Okay, so now what? Go back to talkin' about the damn chair again and figure out why Amami lost his balance?" He thought that it was funny how Iruma stopped using her crude nickname, though she supposed Shinguuji could appear as a force to be reckoned with when he wanted to be. 

"Maybe not that exactly, but on a related note," Akamatsu offered awkwardly, tugging absentmindedly at the collar of her dress shirt. "We haven't talked about the weird way the desk was arranged."

"The desk? What was weird about it?" Kiibo repeated, with curious confusion.

Akamatsu hummed affirmation with a matching nod. "The chair that fell over looked like it was borrowed from the desk beside it. If it was in its proper place, Amami-kun would have fallen into the desks behind him, not to the floor at the front of the room."

"Maybe Amami-kun did fall into the desks, and the culprit moved him to the floor later?" Gonta offered with a small, uncertain frown, rubbing the back of his head and disturbing the already messy state of his hair.

"But it didn't look like the desks behind the front row had been moved at all. If he fell into them, it would have affected the entire classroom, because he'd push the desks back into each other." Hoshi countered, placing his candy cigarette between his lips once he was done to begin idly chewing at it.

"And why would the culprit do that anyway?" Angie rocked back on her heels, holding onto the rail to presumably make sure she wouldn't fall  _ off _ the podium. "If they were going to move things, they could've set the desks back to normal and moved Rantaro only. That way, we'd never figure out how he got his other injuries!"

"Speaking of injuries, the desks would act as a buffer so he would've had actual time to catch himself." Iruma interjected, finger pointed upwards as she explained. "Nah, there's a much simpler way to figure out why the desks were arranged recently. It's disappointing, but I'm not surprised you idiots haven't been able to work it out yet!"

"Then could you spit it out and not waste our time?" Ouma drawled out, gesturing for her to hurry up. "Geez, for a so-called genius, you're super slow."

Iruma's face tinged with embarrassment, and she squeaked out. "Hey, who are you calling slow?!" She sniffed, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "But it  _ is _ obvious. If Amami and Saihara were supposed to be meeting up, couldn't Amami have rearranged the desk so they could sit together?"

Ouma could concede that this made sense, because he had done the same thing with Angie and the late Yumeno a few days ago so they could play cards. It made sense that Amami would want to face Saihara to talk to him, and seeing as he got to the meeting place early, it also made sense for him to have rearranged the desk himself while he waited. 

However, he wasn't going to say that, because he wasn't going to give Iruma the satisfaction. Harukawa was the one who responded, much to Ouma's delight - she was never one to gratify anyone. "I'm surprised it took that long for you to get to that."

"It wasn't  _ that _ long." Gonta mumbled, looking mildly embarrassed even as he smiled out of politeness. 

"It wasn't, all things considered." Saihara murmured in response, hands in his coat pockets with his head tilted downwards. "However, while we're on the topic of the body and the crime scene, there's something that I find strange about this case."

"Something strange?" Tojo repeated, brows knitting together.

"Yes, regarding the fatal wound itself." Saihara nodded, before trailing off into silence once more. Ouma leaned forward in anticipation, gesturing for the detective to continue, but Saihara simply smiled back, lifting a finger to tap his silence against his lips. 

Ouma groaned in frustration, raking a hand through his hair. Of course. He should've expected that after how difficult he was last trial too. He didn't like the fact that his annoyance scrambled his thoughts momentarily, as his tongue ran away from him. "The wound was on the top of his head. That isn't exactly weird for blunt force trauma, is it?"

"No, I don't believe so." Shinguuji appeared confused, his pursed lips conveying his own thinly veiled annoyance. "Perhaps Saihara-kun is simply trying to derail our conversation, for unknowable reasons."

"Well, now that I think about it," Akamatsu cut in, saving Saihara from further slander as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth in thought. "The wound was kind of closer to the forehead than the top of his head, wasn't it?"

"Whaaat? Is that strange?" Angie frowned, tipping her body to one side to accentuate her question, but Ouma wasn't listening to her very closely. He hadn't looked at Amami's head for very long, but he had for long enough that he could summon a mental image. He hadn't paid close attention at the time either, but it  _ had _ been situated further forward than strictly necessary. 

He quickly realised what Saihara had been insinuating.

"Not necessarily strange," He said, because he was too stubborn to agree fully, and it wasn't, on a base level. "But it does mean that the culprit must have been in front of Amami-chan to deliver the blow. The wound wouldn't be that far forward otherwise."

"So the culprit was in front of Amami-kun?" Gonta smiled, eyes brightening. "Oh! So that must mean the culprit was sitting across from him!"

"Wait, wait, that makes no sense." Chabashira shook her head, leaning forward and bracing both her hands against the rail. "The desk would be in the way like that! They wouldn't be able to hit him sitting down."

"Even if the culprit was standing, the desk would still be a hinderance." Harukawa muttered, pressing her hoodie covered hand to her mouth. "And while Amami was sitting down, he's still pretty tall. Depending on the height of the culprit and the weapon, they may not be able to generate enough force to kill him."

"If they used something like a bat, then it wouldn't matter how tall the culprit was." Hoshi muttered, and Ouma hadn't been paying attention to it throughout, but he must have been making slow progress of his candy cigarette because there was only a small stump peeking out from between his teeth.

"But where would they get something as sturdy or as long as a bat? There aren't any actual bats in the warehouse." Kiibo questioned, habitually fiddling with his gloves. "Plus, the fact that if it was an attack to Amami-kun's front, the weapon must have been discreet enough to not be instantly suspicious."

"Oh, you make a good point there." Akamatsu muttered quietly, pressing a hand to her cheek as her other hand supported her elbow. 

"What I'm hearing is that we need to figure out what the murder weapon was, otherwise we won't know for sure who would've been able to do it." Momota concluded in a half grumble, hand at his waist while the other hung limply at his side. 

"Okay but before we dive into that pile of bullshit, how about we cover all our bases first?" Iruma quipped, wearing that arrogant grin that she had when she thought she was being smart. Whether she actually  _ was _ being smart was an even fifty-fifty chance, though he was sure he'd find out in a few seconds. 

"Cover all our bases?" Kiibo repeated, prompting Iruma to make her point. She did, grin dimming into seriousness as she leaned forward for emphasis. 

"What the fuck is up with that message in blood next to the body, huh?"

_ Hm.  _

Ouma ruled that this was, in fact, one of Iruma's rare shows of proper intelligence as the reminder caused their collective breaths to hitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the trial chapters in theory and planning but man are they hard to write
> 
> Also!! With school starting up soon, updates may be a bit slower. I have a college induction day on Sept 10th, so I'm aiming to finish Chapter 2 as a whole by the end of that week and then take my usual semi-hiatus between chapters to settle into schoolwork and work on some one-shots before I pick up TIAoLaD again. Hopefully it won't affect my update frequency too much (if at all) but I won't know until we reach that point!
> 
> On another note, at the time of posting, this fic currently has 53 bookmarks which I think is pretty neat and on theme
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I'll see you next chapter!


	16. 2.8 : Mori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the slow end of the trial comes another culprit.

"Oh yeah, that was a bit weird, wasn't it?" Angie mused, seemingly unaffected by the sudden tension that had bled into the rest of the group. "But it wasn't really a message. More like just a word!"

"Threat." Harukawa concluded the artist's rambling, which was ironic considering the word easily applied to her too. The reminder of the bloody kanji didn't change the tension buzzing in the room, but it did seem to spur more people into joining the conversation.

"It's an...interesting choice of word." Gonta hesitantly commented, soft eyes offsetting his pursed lips. "Why would that word be beside Amami-kun?"

"Who can say?" Shinguuji hummed cryptically, contributing nothing of actual substance to the discussion. 

"Well, it goes without saying that it's the culprit's doing, yeah?" Hoshi readjusted his beanie with a sigh, his candy cigarette no more.

"Oh yeah? How'd you figure that out?" Iruma shot back, clearly implying something as she narrowed her eyes at him. Hoshi didn't seem to care, looking back with dark eyes.

"What kind of motivation would anyone else have to write that? And when would they have the time to? It may be possible, but it's unlikely."

"Right!" Iruma laughed, entirely unconvincingly as she placed her hands on her hips, even with her skin warm with embarrassment. Looks like her show of actual intelligence was brief, as it usually was. "I knew that, I was just testing you guys."

"Sure you did." Ouma cooed with an exaggerated pout, propping his chin in his palm as he folded one arm over the rail. "Anyway, we can all agree that the culprit was trying to prove something by leaving that clue. There's no way that writing can be unintentional."

"Yeah, but it makes no sense." Momota huffed, scratching the back of his head in a classic display of the uncertainty he didn't allow through his confidence. "Amami wasn't a threat. I mean, he was a bit vague, but he wasn't a bad dude!"

"If anything, he was theoretically one of the lowest threats in the group." Kiibo straightened up, eyebrows pinched as he placed one idle hand on the handrail. "Having forgotten his talent, if not more, he was at more of a disadvantage than the rest of us. The word in blood seems to directly contradict everything we knew about Amami-kun."

Ouma muffled a grumble in his scarf - he had been stuck on what 'threat' could possibly mean since he had first noticed it, and he wasn't any closer to discovering the meaning now than he was at the start of the investigation. Tojo made a noise of thought, face pinched. "It does seem odd. To be quite frank, it seems like the culprit is insinuating that they know more about Amami-kun than we do, and  _ that _ is a troubling thought."

It was. The idea didn't sit well with Ouma at all, because it brought up another question that Chabashira was quick to raise as she shifted from foot to foot. "But if they really do, what do they know? More importantly,  _ how _ did they find out about it?"

"Whatever it was, it was probably what drove them to kill Amami-kun." Saihara murmured lightly, head tilted downwards as he readjusted the sleeves of his coat with a casual air that would have been offensive if it wasn't paired with tense muscles. "Unlike Shirogane-san's case, this was definitely a targeted attack."

Ouma agreed with that much, because the culprit had been trying to convey a message, and that message was centered around Amami. The possibility of it being an impulse kill was nearly non-existent with that in mind, and while there were a couple uncomfortable reactions, there was a general consensus that everyone agreed that that was true.

"Is it possible that Amami-kun told the culprit his secret directly?" Akamatsu quietly proposed, not looking entirely certain with her guess, but it was more than enough to get them back into the swing of things.

"Impossible. In a situation like this, secrets are best kept to oneself, and I'm sure Amami-kun knew that." Shinguuji said, a weak impression of his usual indifference. There was an undercurrent of something fragile in his words, faintly emotionally charged that almost startled Ouma.

Harukawa let out a short, cynical huff. "Situation or not, if you have a secret that people would want to kill you over, there's no way you'd tell anyone about it." She sounded like she was talking from experience, and all things considered, he wouldn't be surprised if she was.

"Oh!" Angie clapped her hands together, still somehow missing the room's general atmosphere or otherwise ignoring it. "Or maybe, the culprit had Rantaro's motive video, and that's how they found out about whatever he was hiding?"

Ouma lifted his head from his palm so he could click his fingers and point his approval at Angie, straightening up with a grin. "I mean, that's the only logical answer, right? With the motive videos in the wild, it'd make sense for the culprit to have been swayed because of that."

"So what? The motive videos actually could've affected everyone, even if it wasn't their damn video?" Iruma bluntly said, and suddenly Ouma regretted bringing up that aspect. "What the hell were we all worrying about, then?" He couldn't stop his gaze from darting to the side, checking on Kiibo from the corner of his eye. He looked resigned, pressing his lips into a thin line, and Ouma forced his posture to remain relaxed to keep up his relatively casual air.

"I dunno if affected is the right way to put it." Momota tilted his head, making a so-so gesture with his hand. "Not everyone has huge secrets, and even if we did, they might not have all shown up in the motive videos. The ones we saw at the screening were pretty tame," Excluding Harukawa's, he was right about that, but Gonta and Kiibo weren't exactly the type to be keeping big secrets to begin with, "so Amami might've just been unlucky."

"Amami-kun was unlucky either way. He wouldn't be dead if he wasn't." Saihara mumbled, just loud enough to be heard, and a few classmates winced at the blunt statement.

"So the culprit had Amami-san's motive video, and killed him because they thought he was a threat based on his motive? Maybe?" Chabashira began confidently, but dissolved into uncertainty by the end of her recap, paired with incoherent hand gestures.

"It makes sense, but I can't believe that Amami-kun had a secret that big, you know?" Akamatsu admitted with a small smile, rubbing her upper arm awkwardly. Ouma silently returned the sentiment, because whether he admitted it or not, he had been close enough to Amami to want to think the best of him. 

"Believable or not, it's still possible." Hoshi sighed, sounding tired as he leaned back on his heels. "Though if we're assuming the culprit had Amami's motive, then I guess the next step we should take is figuring out who had his video."

"Who had his video?" Gonta repeated, before lighting up and raising a hand. "Everyone could share whose motive video they had, and then we'll know! Gonta can start-"

Tojo firmly cut him off before he could get any further. "No, that wouldn't necessarily work."

"Huh?!" Gonta didn't seem offended, but he did appear confused by his unknown mistake. "Why not?"

"There is no guarantee that the culprit will not just lie about the motive video they have to avoid suspicion." Tojo explained patiently, sharing Ouma's own gripes with that specific plan. "In fact, I can't imagine why they wouldn't lie. To tell us that you had Amami-kun's motive now is akin to a confession, and the culprit is unlikely to give up now."

Gonta wilted, disappointed as he clearly had not considered that option. "Oh, that does make sense."

"Yeah, well, how else are we supposed to know who had his video? It's not like we were keeping track of that shit!" Iruma groaned, tipping her head back as she massaged her temples. "God, exchange or not, we should've kept a fuckin' list."

Shinguuji sighed heavily, visibly annoyed as he waved a hand. "It would have been more than helpful. However, we had no way to know that something like that would be needed, so there's no use in dwelling on it now."

"Well, I don't have any evidence that points to one culprit, but I  _ do _ have evidence that'll help narrow the list." Ouma added conversationally, as if the memory of said evidence hadn't just come crashing into the forefront of his mind. The simple statement easily attracted everyone's attention, and he could see genuine hope in some of those gazes.

"Is that so?" Shinguuji was the one who spoke up, raising an eyebrow. "What evidence do you have in mind?" 

Ouma's face settled into something blank, vaguely serious as he folded his arms behind his back. "When I went to get my sceptre from the A/V Room at the end of the investigation period, I noticed that one of the kubs pads in the pile we made for the screening had blood on its side. I didn't have time to check who it belonged to, but it was near the bottom of the pile."

"One of the kubs pads?" Momota repeated, visibly shocked, before he rubbed his goatee with the back of his hand. "I didn't notice anything like that at the screening!"

"Neither did I, and I was the one hooking the damn things up to the projector!" Iruma retorted, less shocked and more accusatory as she narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm calling bullshit on that so-called evidence."

"It is rather convenient, that you were the only one to notice that, isn't it?" Shinguuji said with an overtly suspicious tone, holding his chin between his thumb and forefinger. 

Ouma inhaled slowly, not letting his annoyance show on his face because he understood the cautious approach and why they would doubt him. If anything, he appreciated it. However, considering he was actually telling the truth in this instance, he did have to squash the instinctive irritation, instead letting a bright smile settle on his face. "Nope! The casing of the kubs pads were brightly coloured and had a splatter pattern anyway, so fresh blood could have easily blended in. I didn't notice it at the motive screening party either, y'know." He decided that he was done with acting serious, and melted back over the handrail, resting his elbows on the wood as he maintained his smile. "Besides, what reason would I have to lie about it?" 

"Well, if you were the culprit, you would want to lie to trick us, right?" Angie's question was phrased innocently enough, but there was a gleam in her eye that showed doubt.

"But it's impossible for Ouma-kun to be the culprit." Akamatsu was quick to defend him with an awkward smile, which wasn't surprising considering her character but appreciated nonetheless. "He was in the A/V Room with me and a few others at the time of the murder, so he couldn't have killed Amami-kun. And you know that, Iruma-san, because you were one of the people who were there." She gave her a reproachful glare out of the corner of her eye.

Calling her out on it directly caused Iruma's confidence to wither, even if she tried to save face, twirling a stray strand of hair around her finger. "Right, of course I know that! I- I was just surprised that my sharp eyes didn't notice the bloodstains." Ouma childishly stuck his tongue out at her, and she responded with a weak glare.

"We're all in agreement that Ouma's telling the truth then, right?" Momota called attention back to the topic at hand with a half grin, and Ouma was pleasantly surprised that nobody actively objected. Nice to know his innocence was successfully proven. 

"Yes, but on the subject of the kubs pad itself," Kiibo seemed more than happy to carry on with the discussion, his expression hardened with focus, "while the kubs pad that we're assuming belonged to Amami may have motivated the culprit, why would it be bloodied?"

There was a brief silence, before Chabashira, absentmindedly fidgeting with the bow of her uniform, breached it. "It's a crazy idea, but...is it possible that the kubs pad  _ is _ the murder weapon? 'Cause we don't know what it is, right?"

Ouma sucked his breath in through his teeth, digging his nose into his scarf; he didn't like how much sense that made.

Kiibo winced and poorly covered it up with a quiet hum, tapping his chin as he stared down at his handrail. "It's plausible. The kubs pads are dense and heavy enough to cause lethal damage with enough force."

"It would also solve our problem of not knowing the murder weapon." Tojo added calmly, even as her expression contorted and she lifted a hand to rest over her mouth. "And it would be the easiest way to explain the bloodstains on the tablet. If it wasn't the murder weapon, there wouldn't be any reason for it to have been involved with the murder itself."

"And that means Amami was killed with his own motive." Harukawa sighed, shaking her head with a mutter. "How ironic."

Shinguuji laced his fingers together, resting his wrists against the handrail as he leaned forward. "The kubs pad was in the A/V Room, correct? Surely that means the culprit attended the screening party." 

Ouma scoffed, flashing a grin. "Well, duh. Why do you think I brought the kubs pad up in the first place?" He straightened up a bit, slamming his hands down onto the rail as he finally got the chance to present his original point. "We can safely assume that the culprit was someone who attended the screening party, because nobody went to the basement during the investigation period. Like Akamatsu-chan said, some of us can be taken off the suspect list because we were all at the A/V Room at the time of the murder. That narrows it down to everyone who arrived after that time."

"That would be...Chabashira-san, Hoshi-kun, Angie-san and Momota-kun, right? They all arrived later." Gonta specified as he folded his arms across his chest, a faint frown on his face. 

Ouma watched the accused carefully as Momota and Chabashira stiffened. Hoshi seemed unaffected, which didn't surprise him considering the tennis pro's apathy towards himself. Angie slowed her general bouncing and fidgeting, even as her smile remained intact. He supposed after being accused for Yumeno's murder, she wasn't as fazed this time around. 

"That makes things easy!" Iruma laughed, slightly too loud as she placed her hands on her hips triumphantly. "If it's out of those four, the culprit's really damn obvious!"

"I-Is it?" Chabashira nervously chuckled as she pressed the pads of her fingers together, self-conscious now she was in the hot seat. Ouma raised an eyebrow, admittedly curious as to what Iruma was thinking. 

"Sorry, it's obvious to  _ me _ , but I'm a genius so I guess I can't hold you plebs to the same standard." She said with an obnoxiously arrogant grin, placing a hand on her chest to gesture towards herself, before leaning forward. "Anyway, the culprit's gotta be Astronut over here."

"Wait, what? Why me?!" Momota instantly protested, mildly panicked and for good reason. Being singled out as a culprit, whether it was true or not, wasn't exactly a comforting experience.

"I also want to know why you think that." Hoshi said, and despite being one of the alternative suspects, he genuinely appeared to be curious, instead of being relieved like the girls were.

Iruma, revelling in the attention, smirked as she braced herself against the handrail with one arm. "'Cause when we were talking about the shit with the weird angle and the desk in the way, we mentioned that the height of the culprit mattered, yeah? Momota's the only person in those four who's taller than Amami, so he's the only one who could whack him over the head easily!"

"Well, that doesn't mean I did it!" Momota argued with balled fists, more riled up as possible evidence was presented against him, whether or not they held any substance. "I'd never kill anyone!"

"Shirogane-san held that opinion too, and we all know how  _ that _ trial ended." Shinguuji muttered lowly, unnecessarily reminding everyone of what they all already knew. Ouma noticed Chabashira flinch beside him.

Harukawa scoffed, rolling her eyes under the shadow of her fringe. "Don't be stupid. It couldn't have been Momota, because he has an alibi." 

Ouma was surprised that she was so quick to defend him, because he was pretty certain she wouldn't have been that prompt if anyone else was accused. It could easily be because she was directly involved with his alibi, but either way, he couldn't help but find it interesting.

"Technically,  _ you _ have an alibi because we determined from Momota-kun's account that you didn't leave your lab." Kiibo pointed out, lacking gentleness in his delivery as he frowned lightly. "He was still alone when the murder occured."

"Momota-kun would also have to pass by Classroom B to get back to Harukawa-san's lab, so it is a bit suspicious." Akamatsu hesitated before speaking, and Ouma could guess why, when he saw hurt flash across Momota's face before he shielded it behind indifference. Akamatsu must have seen it too, because she was quick to wave her hands in front of her. "Not that I think it's him! I'm sure Momota-kun wouldn't do that, but the alibi isn't solid enough proof for him. There must be some other, more concrete evidence that proves it isn't him, right?"

"Not if he's the culprit!" Angie chirped in a far too happy tone, leaning to the side and returning to her normal energy, linking her hands together behind her back.

"Hey, I told you, I'm not the culprit!" Momota shouted back, bristling.

"Maybe so, but you have yet to prove it." Shinguuji replied, voice sharp as he watched him, unimpressed. "Tell me:  _ can _ you prove your innocence?"

Ouma decided that this dillydallying had gone on long enough, and as funny as it was to see Momota squirm, they didn't have time to waste. "I can." He gave a saccharine smile as everyone's attention settled on him. "We assume the culprit had Amami-chan's video, right? Then it couldn't have been Momota-chan, because he admitted to having Harukawa-chan's video before we even found the body!"

"What?" Harukawa muttered softly, stiffening as muted shock twisted her features. Ah. She must not have known that Momota had her video either - and after she stood up for him, too. Her gaze flickered towards the boy in question, and Ouma could only imagine how  _ that _ conversation would pan out. Momota, however, was too busy beaming at his name being cleared to notice her gaze.

"Oh yeah!" Akamatsu clapped her hands together, smiling with visible relief. "Momota-kun had Harukawa-san's motive, and he came in late anyway, so he couldn't have put his kubs pad at the bottom of the pile."

"Then Iruma-san's accusation was incorrect. We can remove Momota-kun from the suspect list." Saihara stated clearly, raising his voice slightly despite surely knowing that he would be heard either way. 

Still, Ouma could appreciate the dig at Iruma, especially when she squeaked in protest. "It- It was just a minor overlook on my part! It's not like it didn't help." She huffed, pointing at the room at large. "If we didn't talk about that shit, we wouldn't have been able to narrow down the suspect list, so show some damn respect!"

"Whether you deserve respect or not is debatable," Iruma squawked at Shinguuji's flat remark, but the anthropologist ignored her as he continued to speak. "However, it is true that our suspect list has now narrowed to Angie-san, Chabashira-san and Hoshi-kun."

"Well, I didn't do it!" Chabashira predictably shouted, paler than before as she leaned against her podium's rail.

Hoshi chuckled, a humourless sound. "Yeah, we can all say that. Do you have the evidence to prove it?"

That effectively shut her up, Chabashira grumbling quietly to herself as she clearly didn't have evidence on hand to clear her name. That did pose another question, though: where did they go from here? From what he remembered, there weren't any discerning factors between the final three. No particularly strange alibi, or contradiction. 

"None of you have an alibi before coming to the motive screening, right?" Akamatsu asked, clearly thinking along the same lines of concern as Ouma was. She was, unfortunately, met with three nods. She smiled despite the disappointment, clearly trying to be encouraging. "That's fine! There must be some other way we can narrow the list down, right?"

This was followed by a rather  _ dis _ couraging silence, until Gonta suddenly lit up and gasped, drawing attention to himself. "Gonta's got it! If one of them had his motive video, then we can remove them off the list too, right? Like Momota-kun with Harukawa-san's video!"

There was a fatal flaw in that idea, and while Ouma could probably work around it, Tojo also picked up on it. She corrected Gonta gently. "No. With Momota-kun, we already knew he had her video beforehand, but that is not the case with yours. It would be very easy for one of these three to lie about having your video, and we would have to take their word for it."

"Oh, Gonta sees." He mumbled, nodding slowly in understanding. It was probably for the best that they weren't relying on unstable variables like word of mouth, but that did lead them to another standstill. Nobody seemed to be able to think of anywhere to go from here, and Ouma found himself getting frustrated over it as he stared down at his handrail.

"You know," The silence was broken by Saihara's soft voice, and Ouma's gaze flickered up to catch the bittersweet quirk of his lips. "I originally brought up the strange angle of the fatal wound for a reason."

It wasn't informative at all, and Ouma wanted to scream, but he kept that to himself. Instead, he furrowed his eyebrows as his gaze fell down to the handrail again, turning the detective's words over in his mind. He prided himself on his smarts, he should be able to piece this together no problem. The angle of the wound suggested a front attack, with the desk between them acting as an obstacle, especially with a short object like the kubs pad as the murder weapon. Keeping in mind the three suspects, all of which were shorter than Amami himself-

Everything clicked.

He looked up with an urgency that he refused to let show in his voice when he spoke. "I know who it is."

"Really?" Tojo's expression didn't give away her hopeful interest, but her eyes did. "Who do you think it is?"

"Think about it," Ouma firmly placed the sides of his hands on the rail, tilting his hand to let his bangs fall out of his eyes. He could easily just state the culprit now, but seeing as they would have to go over it anyway, he thought he might as well explain it now rather than later. "We talked about how Amami-chan was hit from the front, and that because the table was in the way, the culprit may not have been able to generate the force needed to kill someone, yeah? Now that we know that the weapon was the kubs pad, we can't even say that the weapon may have picked up the slack, because the kubs pad is too short for that."

"Yeah, yeah, we know all that shit already!" Iruma groused with a huff, rudely interrupting him in the process. She waved a hand dismissively. "Get to the fucking point!"

Ouma levelled her with a harsh glare, but continued on as if he hadn't heard her. "Logically, that means that none of our suspects could've killed him. They're too short for that." He noticed that some of the others were starting to adopt disappointed expressions, like he was leading up to the grand conclusion that it was none of the current suspects. He grinned and barrelled on with his speech before anyone else could interrupt him. "Unless they got some leverage it would be impossible. Good news!" He paused to throw his hands up, doing jazz hands. "They could get leverage by getting onto the desk, and as a bonus, that would get rid of the obstacle that would affect the force behind their killing blow. Bad news! They would then be too tall compared to a sitting Amami-chan, and the force would be affected by that instead."

He dropped his hands and his grin as he leaned forward, his voice lowering. "Or at least, they would be, if they weren't Hoshi."

He made sure to drop the honorifics, as was growing to be customary for him when addressing culprits. He watched Hoshi freeze, his eyes darkening with an expression Ouma couldn't quite pin. "So you think I did it, huh?"

His tone, despite everything, was casual, so Ouma chose to match that with a smile. "Were you not listening to my whole explanation speech? Of course I do!"

"Considering the points made, out of the three of them, Hoshi-kun would make the most sense as the culprit." Kiibo quietly said, fidgeting with his gloves before glancing to the side, hesitating. After a moment, he added onto his thoughts with a firmer expression. "It could also explain the toppled chair. His short stature would allow him to follow the momentum of getting onto the chair and brace himself on Amami's shoulders."

"It would also explain the dislocated shoulder better, wouldn't it?" Saihara phrased it as a question but his voice held no uncertainty, even as his body language suggested otherwise. 

"It would." Tojo conceded as she pressed a gloved hand to her cheek in thought. "Hoshi-kun's added weight would not only topple the chair, but if his footing was at his shoulder, it would be an added weight upon impact. It would be more likely to dislocate."

"Does that mean it's decided, then? Hoshi-kun is the culprit we have been seeking." Shinguuji hissed, words sharp despite his expression being blank. It had been apparent throughout the trial, but it was still odd to see him so emotional, even if he tried to hide it.

"Will I get a chance to defend myself?" Hoshi asked, looking mildly shaken but otherwise shockingly put together for someone who was being singled out as the culprit. 

"Hold on a second, I can't believe this!" Momota burst out, somehow looking more troubled by this development than Hoshi himself did. "The Ultimate Tennis Pro wouldn't kill someone - again, at least."

"Yeah, but if he's killed people before, wouldn't it be easier to kill people now?" Chabashira reasoned, though her slightly frazzled air did not lend itself well to any logical image. She pointed a finger in Hoshi's direction. "Because it makes him desensitised to murder, so he doesn't bat an eye when he does it!"

Hoshi sighed, pulling his beanie further down than usual to cast a shadow over his eyes and hide, in a display that was reminiscent of Saihara. "I have killed people before, and it's my biggest regret, to this day. I get why you suspect me, but what would possibly motivate me to revisit that regret again? You've gotta look at the bigger picture."

Iruma groaned in annoyance, hunching her shoulders as she folded her arms over her chest. "We already talked about your goddamn motive. Didn't we come to the conclusion that you found out some secret from Amami's video and decided to murder his ass because of it?"

"Right." Akamatsu gave a curt nod of acknowledgement, before biting her lip as she glanced over at Hoshi. "But knowing Hoshi-kun, it makes a little more sense. Maybe he did it to try and protect the rest of us."

"Even at the cost of his own life?" Again, Saihara sounded more like he was delivering a statement than a question. Ouma caught a glimpse of sharp hazel as the detective raised his head to look at Hoshi directly. 

"Probably. I mean, he told me he wasn't planning on surviving a couple days ago." Ouma answered before Hoshi had a chance, remembering that conversation they had on the front steps. He also remembered his attempt at an uplifting speech, but he wouldn't be surprised if that had no effect. He was terrible at handling situations like that.

"What? Really?!" Momota exclaimed, his simple words overflowing with concern. He was sure that, if given the chance, the astronaut would have derailed the conversation into a pep talk, so he was relieved when Hoshi replied to both appease and silence him.

"Yeah, I did say that. So I wouldn't feel the need to hide the fact I killed someone, especially to protect all of you." Hoshi said slowly, his explanation almost sounding patient as he slipped his hands into his pockets. "I would have turned myself in. I may not have anything to live for, but you guys do. Why would I jeopardize that?"

And that was the thing, wasn't it? That was the hitch in this theoretical timeline of events. Hoshi had no motive to not admit to the crime. He had been telling the truth when he had told Ouma he didn't plan to survive, and he respected their wills to live, so it wasn't like he wanted to kill them all as revenge for having something he didn't. That wasn't something that was in his character. 

Ouma was someone who was pretty confident in himself. Once he reached a conclusion, he typically stuck to it until solid evidence proved him wrong. The idea that he may have to desert this accusation hurt, especially because there  _ wasn't _ solid evidence proving otherwise. Hoshi was the only one who could have pulled it off, but he also didn't have the motive for it. 

"But...that's not true."

Blinking in surprise, Ouma tilted his head to look over at Gonta. The entomologist was visibly hesitant, gripping the strap of his bug cage with both hands, but his eyes were imploring. Hoshi, now visibly caught off guard, knitted his eyebrows together in confusion. "What's not true?"

"You do have something to live for." Gonta said with genuine conviction, his grip on his bug cage tightening. Ouma thought that, perhaps, Gonta was just being encouraging, but that thought was swiftly shot down. "Gonta would know! Because- because he had your motive video."

The firmness of his words wavered at his admission, crumbling into hesitance again, but it was out in the open now. The silence didn't last long before Tojo broke it, shuffling closer to the handrail as she rested her hands on it. "Gokuhara-kun, did Hoshi-kun ever ask about his video? Or see it at any point?"

He glanced at Hoshi out of the corner of his eye, noting with interest that while he hadn't changed position or expression, he was slightly tenser. Gonta, relaxing when there was a lack of outrage towards him, shook his head. "No, he's sure that Hoshi-kun didn't see his video. He never asked, and Gonta kept it in his dorm room."

"What about at the motive screening?" Harukawa questioned, crossing her arms over her stomach as she raised an eyebrow. "Did you guys get around to watching it then?"

"Nah, we only got through three." Momota chuckled lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. Harukawa looked away; annoyed, upset or a mixture of both. Maybe it was because she now knew her video had been one of those three.

"I never saw my motive." Hoshi sighed, posture relaxing into something casual again, a shift small enough that it wouldn't be noticed by most. He cracked a small smile. "It's nice to hear that I have something to live for, though."

_ He's lying. _

The fact screamed at Ouma's conscious mind. Hoshi had seen his motive, which meant the hitch in his theory had been evened out. All they had to do was figure out  _ when _ he saw it.

"Eureka!" Iruma suddenly shouted, pumping an arm into the air, and Ouma found himself hoping she actually had something useful to add. "I was hooking up the next motive video when the body discovery announcement happened. I finished what I was doing before I left, so the video probably played after I left 'cause the loading time is literal shit. That could've easily been Hoshi's motive!"

Ouma bit his bottom lip as a substitute for pushing his scarf down to bite his nails. It wasn't confirmed, but with everything he was already certain of, it tied up the loose ends and that was enough for him. Kiibo's eyes flickered up to meet the group, a pensive look in his eyes. "Looking back on it, Hoshi-kun did arrive slightly late, didn't he?"

Ouma, regrettably, hadn't paid attention at the time, but if the flash of recognition that rippled through his classmates was anything to go by, he assumed Kiibo was right. 

"You did it, didn't you, Ryoma? You killed poor Rantaro." Angie cooed with a sunny smile that was juxtaposed by her stormy eyes. She tucked one arm behind her back as the other pointed Hoshi and his guilt out. 

"Of course I didn't." Hoshi said, and while he was trying to keep his calm facade, there was a subtle growl creeping into his words. "Even if I did see my motive, which I didn't, the murder would have already happened by then. I can't be motivated to kill Amami when he was already dead."

"Unless your motive changed." Ouma didn't miss a beat, determined now that he was certain. He brushed his hair out of his face, going as far as to tuck the strands behind his ear so he could hold eye contact with Hoshi. "You said it yourself, right? You would have turned yourself in if you killed Amami-chan to protect us. That was your original plan. But then you lagged behind and saw your motive video, and because of that, you changed tactics. You tried to survive in exchange for all our lives."

Hoshi's jaw clenched, and his shoulders raised, but he didn't say anything in immediate retaliation, staring straight back. Before he had a chance to formulate a late reply, Ouma clicked his tongue, placing a hand on his hip. "You wanna go through what happened to remind you? Oh, actually, let's do that to make sure we're all on the same page too!"

Ouma made an elaborate show of clearing his throat, patting his chest with a fist, before smiling. "Okay! Let's start at the beginning. Technically, this case starts with Amami-chan and Saihara-chan arranging their secret meeting. Saihara-chan didn't exactly elaborate on why they were meeting, but the most important thing is that they were supposed to meet up in Classroom B at 2:45pm." He sighed, shifting the hand on his hip to rest on his sceptre. "Seeing as Tojo-chan bumped into Amami-chan in the courtyard at 2:25, we know that Amami-chan arrived at the classroom around fifteen minutes early. This was a bad idea because enter: the culprit!"

He pulled his sceptre out of its holster with as much flourish as possible, to emphasis this important moment in the retelling. "Now, Amami-chan had rearranged the desk in preparation with his meeting with Saihara-chan, and was sitting alone, waiting. I don't think the culprit attacked immediately. They probably sat across from Amami-chan and talked for a bit to catch him by surprise - which was especially easy when their weapon of choice was the kubs pad. Seeing as they were on their way to the motive screening party, Amami-chan obviously wouldn't find that suspicious!" He paused, absentmindedly twirling his sceptre as Hoshi looked to the ground, ignoring his persistent staring. "Then, using their stature to their advantage, our culprit jumped up onto the desk and hit Amami-chan repeatedly on the head. The momentum and weight knocked the chair over, and the impact caused a dislocated arm and bruising at the back of Amami-chan's head. Not like that mattered, because Amami-chan was probably already dead on account of the cranial fracturing."

His tone was admittedly sarcastic, but he let another brief silence fill up space in respect for their lost classmate. "But it's not over yet. The culprit didn't want to hide the fact that the murder happened - they wanted to showcase it, because they had killed Amami-chan for a reason. And luckily for them, they weren't on a very strict time limit, because Saihara-chan was busy and ended up running late to the meeting. They dragged his body by the dislocated arm to the hallway, leaving a blood trail and having the added bonus of completely fucking up his arm further." Several people winced at this, and to be fair, Ouma also wasn't particularly excited to remind himself of the image of it either. "Once the body had been moved, the culprit dipped their finger into the blood and wrote a message beside Amami-chan's head. 'Threat'. Because, y'see, the culprit had Amami-chan's video, and learnt something about him that probably marked him as such. I have no idea what that could be, but I digress." 

Ouma rocked back on his heels, keeping a close eye on the way Hoshi's face darkened. "Once they were finished with all the rearrangement, the culprit wiped their hands and the kubs pad off on Amami-chan's clothes because we wouldn't be suspicious of the victim's clothes being bloodied but we  _ would _ be suspicious if they walked around with bloodied hands. They probably rinsed their hands in the bathroom on the way to the motive screening party, but unfortunately, they couldn't rinse an electronic and didn't wipe the blood off the kubs pad thoroughly enough. That hint led us down the right road."

His smile widened into a grin as he shifted his sceptre from one hand to another, pointing it at the culprit. "C'mon, you gotta admit I'm close, at least. Right, Hoshi Ryoma, the Ultimate Tennis Pro?"

Hoshi sighed heavily, but the sharpness of his eyes clued Ouma into the fact that he wasn't giving up yet, even before he spoke up. "Look, I understand why you're suspecting me, but you're making the wrong choice. This is all hypothetical. Just slow down and-"

"Okay then!" Ouma cheerfully cut him off, dropping his sceptre to catch it by its crowning piece, before he began to swing it back and forth. "How about we get some solid evidence, then?"

Shinguuji hummed as he held his hands together in front of him, raising an eyebrow. "Do you have an idea of some sort, Ouma-kun?"

"I do, actually!" He replied with a grin, finally holstering his sceptre. "It's based on something you said, Shinguuji-chan." The anthropologist's eye showed interest at that. "You mentioned that because of blood splatter, the culprit's sleeves would also be bloodied."

"Yeah, and we said that they probably went back to their dorm and changed, right?" Chabashira interrupted, seemingly doubting his ability to prove Hoshi's guilt.

" _ Probably _ ." Ouma emphasised, holding up a finger. "We assumed that they changed, but we also neglected to address the fact that some of us do have outer coats. So!" He clapped his hands together, eyes snapping back to Hoshi, tone switching into something sickly sweet. "Would you mind taking off your jacket and showing us your sleeves, Hoshi? Shouldn't be too much to ask of you if you have nothing to hide."

Hoshi stared back at him, glowering for a few long moments. Finally, he let out a long sigh, and began to unzip his jacket. A bittersweet smile bloomed on his face as he slipped it off, eyes softening. "Well, good work, kid."

There, dark and dried against his sleeves, were splatter bloodstains.

"Hoshi-kun…" Gonta breathed, looking heartbroken as he stared at the damning piece of evidence.

"Damnit!" Momota hissed as he bowed his head, slamming a fist against the handrail. Shinguuji was quiet, watching Hoshi through a narrowed eye, the rest of his face blank. 

"I know I put up a fight." Hoshi smiled lightly - a genuine smile, eyes crinkling at the corners - and that made it worse. "But in the end, this is for the best. At least I can say I gave it a shot, but it looks like my time's finally up."

"Come on, don't say that." Akamatsu said softly, an edge of desperation to her tone. Ouma had a feeling she wanted to continue, to soothe him but she didn't get the chance before Monokuma's sharp voice cut through the air, as if they needed any more reminder of the situation.

"Yeah, don't say that! After all, it hasn't been confirmed yet. The heart-racing excitement as the blackened and the spotless finally face off: it's VOTING TIME!"

Even with one less voice, the chorus was still just as irritating. Ouma scoffed quietly, taking the moment to fix his scarf and shake his head to mess his hair up again before turning his attention to the monitor in his handrail. Sixteen familiar portraits stared back up at him, three mockingly crossed out with pink. He switched from Akamatsu's portrait, which was apparently the default, to Hoshi's before moving to press the button and submit his vote. 

The portraits flipped to black, that chime playing to prove that the vote went through. This time, he must have taken his sweet time and ended up being one of the last to submit his vote, because as soon as it went through, Monokuma piped up.

"Looks like everyone's done voting! Let's take a look at the results."

The results monitor lowered in front of them, stopping with a jerk. It lit up with the same graphic as last time, transitioning to the screen with all their names listed. All thirteen tallies appeared underneath Hoshi's name, and while it wasn't a surprise, it didn't make it any less unfortunate.

"Who will be chosen as the blackened? Will you make the right choice, or the dreadfully wrong one?"

The screen transitioned from black to 'VERDICT' in flashing colours, before the roulette wheel finally appeared on screen. He watched the blinking yellow light spin around the wheel, hypnotised by the movement. Considering Hoshi confirmed it for them, he wasn't surprised when the light landed on him. Confetti rained down on the screen as the victory music played, mocking their impending tragedy. Ouma's gaze fell from the monitor, and he found it settling on Hoshi, opposite him.

Hoshi exhaled slowly, closing his eyes, and he looked so exhausted that, despite or perhaps  _ because _ of everything, Ouma couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uUh I am tired and I need to sleep my final statement is that "hoshi ryoma deserved better in canon and he also deserved better in this fic"
> 
> the chapter titles read 'memento mori' which roughly translates to 'remember that you will die'!
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I'll see you next chapter!!


	17. 2.9 : With Open Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The idea of watching an execution hadn't gotten any more appealing to Ouma in the past few days, as it turns out.

Ouma stared down at the testimonial in his hands, and seriously considered tearing it in half. It still felt disrespectful to gain money in an impending exchange of two lives, but unfortunately, he was also just materialistic enough to keep it in one piece for the very same disrespectful money. 

Most of it went to gifts for other people and his slight obsession with the MonoMono Machine, anyway. 

He watched the cubs scurry back up to their perch over the edge of the paper, before huffing and folding it small enough to fit in his pocket. Monokuma, still lounging on his chair like a spoiled king, leered down at them with excessive cheer. "Congratulations, you got it right! The blackened who killed Amami Rantaro is Hoshi Ryoma, the Ultimate Tennis Pro!"

Ouma glared up at the bear, not needing or wanting another reminder on whose head had been bashed in. The cubs cooed, bursting into an applause that Yellow seemed less than happy to participate in. "Well done! Bravo! Bravo!"

"Though I guess you already knew that because  _ somebody _ confessed outright." Monokuma interjected, silencing his kids' applause instantly. He grumbled, radiating annoyance as he squinted down at Hoshi. "So much for the dramatic tension of voting time,  _ huh _ ?"

Hoshi chuckled, an empty sound as his expression darkened, directly meeting Monokuma's gaze. "I'm not here to do what you want. I'm here to die."

"You're right about one thing, you bastard!" Monokuma cackled, his grin stretching wider. The glint in his red eye was anything but reassuring.

"Hey, hold on a second!" There was a frantic edge to Momota's voice, but his expression was mostly firm as he drew attention to himself. "I can't understand this. You gotta at least explain yourself, Hoshi."

"Indeed. I still don't quite understand the circumstances that led you to this, and I would prefer to hear an explanation from you than speculate." Shinguuji mused, tone frigid and toeing the line of passive aggressive.

Hoshi glanced back at them over his shoulder, before sighing and nodding. He turned his back on Monokuma, who was complaining about the hold up and going ignored, as he turned to face them properly. "Alright. I guess I owe you all that much."

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, and while he agreed without much resistance, he seemed hesitant to begin talking. He was prompted by Akamatsu's gentle "Hoshi-kun?".

"Most of it's like Ouma said. I had Amami's motive video, and thought that seeing as I had nothing to live for, I'd kill him to protect the rest of you." He paused in his slow explanation, pulling a face as he glanced away. "It wasn't exactly planned. I told myself that I'd do it if given an opportunity, and I was, when I passed Classroom B on my way to the motive screening."

"Yeah, but what did you find out about Amami-san that made him a threat?" Chabashira whispered in an almost conspiratorial tone, a look of genuine concern on her face as she leaned forward in anticipation. 

Again, Hoshi hesitated. Iruma groaned loudly, placing both hands on her hips. "Come on, you killed the fucker over it! It must be something big, and we deserve to know what it is!"

"I know, I know." Hoshi mumbled, another weak laugh following his words. "But thinking back on it, it sounds a bit ridiculous. I don't know if you'd believe me."

"Well, we can't tell you how we'll react until you tell us." Ouma pointed out, raising an eyebrow. Unfortunately, Hoshi didn't have a chance to answer before the peanut gallery decided to interrupt.

"I know! You can all just watch the real thing together!" Pink piped up, bouncing excitedly on her perch. Ouma hadn't realised it earlier, because he didn't care to, but Monokid's seat now held a portrait of him with a circular blue frame. 

"Oh, that's a good idea!" Red gasped, clapping his paws together, before pulling what looked to be the equivalent of a pout. "Why didn't I think of that?!"

Pink ignored him, instead producing a familiar kubs pad. At the angle she was holding it, the dried blood splatter was painfully obvious. "Luckily, I have it right here, so we can hook it up now!"

The results monitor made a reappearance with a new purpose, the screen lighting up with the same dark background as all the motive videos. The bright text for this one, however, read 'Amami Rantaro's Motive Video'. Ouma sucked in a breath, curious but unsure if he wanted his memory of Amami to be skewed. Hoshi looked downwards as the narration began to play over the speakers.

_ "Alright, the moment you've all been waiting for! It's time for a motive video! Who's the most important person in your life, I wonder? And now, without further ado…" _

The screen transitioned to a group picture, with Amami at the center. The rest of the group was made up of twelve girls, all looking younger than him and with eyes that were varying shades of green. Those must be his sisters - he had a lot more than Ouma assumed, but it would be hypocritical of him to be shocked by that. He was smiling, holding the youngest, who couldn't be any older than two years, in his arms. Looking at that face, a face that would never smile, made something pang in his chest.

_ "Amami Rantaro, the Ultimate Survivor. This young man earned his talent after surviving another killing game, hosted by yours truly. And being the only survivor, too!" _

His breath hitched, and his hands balled into fists. He was still watching the screen, knew that his most important people were his sisters, but Ouma wasn't actually listening any further. He blankly watched the screen change, showing a children's bedroom that had obviously been ransacked. 

Amami...had been in a killing game before? 

"Ultimate Survivor?" Angie repeated once the motive video ended, face contorted with the same confusion he felt swirling in his gut. 

"Another killing game? Monokuma, what is the meaning of this?" Tojo asked stiffly, looking up at the bear with pursed lips as she gripped her skirt with both hands. 

Monokuma giggled, a paw over his muzzle as he tilted his head. "Why, I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Like hell you don't know! You made the damn video!" Iruma spat back, earning her another wild cackle from Monokuma but no further response. 

Either way, Hoshi took the break in conversation to pick up where his explanation had left off. "So that's it. The fact that he's a survivor wasn't bad. If anything, it's admirable. But that detail about him being the only survivor?" His voice lowered, taking on a dangerous edge. "We all know the rules, right? For him to be the only survivor, he had to have killed someone and got away with it."

Ouma understood the logic of Hoshi's statement - it was a conclusion he might have come to himself, if he had seen that video alone. And as much as he denied it to himself, he had been close enough to Amami to feel betrayed by that fact, enough to want to justify this new information. 

A valid justification clicked in his mind just as Akamatsu announced it to the room, voice holding a positive cadance. "That makes sense but he forgot his talent, right? He might have forgotten that entire killing game too, so he wouldn't have been a threat anymore."

"Even so," Hoshi smiled with a lack of emotion, eyes solemn. "If he did it before, what would stop him from doing it again? He doesn't need to remember it to be driven to the same conclusion, and if he can trick one group of people, who's to say he wouldn't easily trick us too?"

That was also true. Ouma nibbled lightly at the skin around his thumb, coming to the same decision he normally had when dealing with emotional problems. He slotted his conflicting thoughts on Amami away and stepped back to look through the comfort of a logical lens. Saihara murmured, loud enough to be heard but not a decibel louder. "It's very convenient though, isn't it? For Amami-kun to be the Ultimate Survivor of a killing game presumably identical in structure to this. Of course that would make him a threat, especially if he recovered his supposed memories."

Kiibo furrowed his brows at his tone, staring at Saihara despite the predictable lack of eye contact. "You're suggesting that Amami-kun may not be the Ultimate Survivor at all, and that instead, that may be a false title to raise suspicion?"

"Wait, but wasn't this supposed to be watched by him?" Chabashira questioned, biting her bottom lip. "Lying about his talent in the video wouldn't work, because he'd know it wasn't true."

"Hey! I'll have you know that I'd never lie anyway. Bears do not lie!" Monokuma huffed as he held onto the armrests, scandalised. It was ironic, considering that claim in itself was a painfully obvious lie. 

"Ah, right." Saihara mumbled, turning his head away even though there were definitely some counterpoints he could have made. He didn't sound convinced, only dismissive, and that didn't sit well with Ouma.

"That's the problem with being stuck in here." Harukawa muttered, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked to the side. "We don't know for sure what's true or not."

"Either way, I killed him." Hoshi's words were blunt enough that even he seemed to wince regretfully at them, and he followed them with a slight shake of his head. "I really was going to turn myself in once we got to the trial, but my motive video started playing as we were leaving and I was curious. I don't know what I was expecting. Nothing, honestly." His chuckle was weak, sounding sadder than before as his face grew wistful. "Guess I did have something to live for. I just realised it too late."

"So? Who was in your motive video?" Angie asked, leaning forward with a smile that was two inches to the left of genuine. Hoshi's expression twisted with something unreadable, making it obvious that he wanted to keep that private.

Momota must have noticed it too, because he rubbed the back of his neck with a faint frown. "Listen man, you don't have to tell us if you don't want to-"

"You can watch that one together too!" Red burst out excitedly, as if he wanted to get the idea out there before someone else had it, as if it wasn't just stolen from his sister. This was immediately folloqed by him awkwardly glancing at his siblings. "Uh, we do have his motive video here, right?"

"I got it, I got it." Yellow grumbled, producing another kubs pad from thin air. It took another few seconds before the monitor lit up with the usual dark title screen with contrasting bright text, this time reading 'Hoshi Ryoma's Motive Video'.

_ "Alright, the moment you've all been waiting for! It's time for a motive video! Who's the most important person in your life, I wonder? And now, without further ado…" _

The screen changed to an image of a peaceful Hoshi sitting on a couch full of pillows, with a russian blue cat dozing in his lap. He was smiling lightly down at them, tired eyes full of fondness as he pet them. It was a domestic, cosy scene, and Ouma had a feeling like he was intruding on something.

_ "Hoshi Ryoma, the Ultimate Tennis Pro. Unfortunately, most of his most important people aren't here anymore after being brutally murdered, but there is one left! His precious pet cat, whom he left with an aquaintence when he went to prison. Our team managed to score an exclusive interview with this acquaintence of his!" _

The screen transitioned to a new scene; a man in his mid-twenties with black hair and dark amber eyes sat crosslegged on the floor, with his back against a beige wall. The same russian blue cat was wriggling in his lap, settling into a comfortable position.

_ "Hoshi-kun used to help out here at the rescue shelter all the time, and you could tell he had so much love for the cats. If he could, I'm pretty sure he'd have adopted every single one!" _

The man laughed, but it tapered off into silence as a mix of nostalgia and sadness surfaced on his face. He scratched the cat behind their ear, sighing. 

_ "I know Hime still misses him, of course. I can't give her tennis balls anymore, because whenever I gave her one, she'd start looking for Hoshi-kun all over again. And he's missed things, like Anko's new litter, and a couple of new arrivals." _

The man frowned, looking up directly at the camera with a miserable smile.

_ "I hope wherever he is, Hoshi-kun's alright. He's had it rough, and he's a bit rough around the edges too, but he's a good guy, you know?" _

Ouma understood why Hoshi didn't want them to see this. There was something personal to it, of course, but with only the cats in the shelter as his reason to live, perhaps he felt like it wasn't enough to justify his gambling of their lives. But Ouma could respect it, if only because he could imagine that when you think you have no reason to live, discovering you have one after all is a special kind of euphoria.

The screen dimmed as the narration picked back up.

_ "But- oh no! Shortly after our interview, something horrible happened to this dinky little shelter and its hoard of cats. What happened, exactly?" _

Monokuma popped up on screen, grinning as always, the smug bastard.

_ "Find out for yourself!" _

The screen turned to black. Ouma glanced around, noticing that Hoshi was looking down at his feet with a grim smile. Gonta's hand lifted, as if he wanted to comfort him now that he had the chance, speaking in a gentle tone. "Hoshi-kun-"

"Well, that's just about everything I can explain to you guys." Hoshi cut him off, giving him a small, apologetic smile before he sobered into something neutral. "I'm not going to try and delay the inevitable any longer."

"Finally!" Monokuma shouted with glee flooding his voice, throwing his arms up in the air. "Took you long enough! If the rest of you bastards have any other objections, keep them to yourselves because it's time to get started!"

"Wait-" Gonta repeated, suddenly a lot more panicked. "Hoshi-kun!"

Hoshi exhaled slowly and didn't respond, reaching up to pull his hat off his head instead, revealing his cropped, light auburn hair. He gave them all a lazy smile. "You all have something to live for. Whatever it is, don't ever let go of it, okay?"

_ "I've prepared a special punishment for the Ultimate Tennis Pro, Hoshi Ryoma!" _

He then made his way towards Saihara with quick steps and handed a visibly bewildered Saihara his hat. Hoshi said something to him in a low mumble that nobody else could hear, and after a moment of eye contact, Saihara took the hat from him with careful fingers.

_ "Let's give it everything we've got! It's...PUNISHMENT TIME!" _

Ouma watched as Saihara neatly folded the hat and slipped it into the pocket of his coat, giving Hoshi a final, small bow of his head, and halfheartedly wondered what was said. 

* * *

_ Hoshi Ryoma has been found guilty. _

_ Time for the punishment! _

For a moment, Ouma was nervous of another chain descending out of nowhere, like at the start of Shirogane's execution. It was a pointless worry, because instead, Monodam hopped down from his podium and came hurrying towards Hoshi, grabbing onto him as he began to drag him towards the execution grounds. He assumed the lack of direct force was because Hoshi was willing to go; he followed the cub with an unnerving amount of calm. Nobody tried to interfere, despite some of them clearly wanting to, if their pained expressions were anything to go by. 

Hoshi was led to the execution grounds, the same section of wall as last time sliding back to reveal it. There was no decoration to note of, aside from tennis court markings painted on the floor, and he wasn't sure if that would change later or not. Under Monodam's instruction, Hoshi went to stand at one end of the court, pushing his hands into his pockets. Despite his nonchalant attitude, Ouma was sure he could spot some nervousness in his eyes as the glass wall slid up into place and sealed his fate.

As soon as the glass stopped moving, the scenery in the execution grounds began to shift, revealing stadium seats filled with cardboard cutout Monokumas surrounding Hoshi. Or, rather, they  _ looked _ like cardboard cutouts, even as they bustled excitedly in their seats. On the opposite end of the court, a tennis ball machine rose from the ground with the other three Monokubs clinging onto it, giggling. Monodam was quick to go and join them behind the machine, but Ouma was distracted by the final addition to the scene.

In place of the net, a pedestal emerged from the ground at the center of the court, displaying a tennis racket with its handle pointed to the sky. 

It went without saying that Ouma had a bad feeling about this.

**DEAD NET CONVICT**

**ULTIMATE TENNIS PRO'S EXECUTION**

The cubs wasted no time as they began to load the machine with tennis balls, the puppet audience growing more restless the longer nothing happened. Hoshi stared at the machine as they prepared, stock still and taking a long, deep breath.

The machine turned on with a loud whirr of electricity, and began to eject tennis balls in Hoshi's direction, the audience starting to cheer as they hit him. Hoshi flinched at the impact, but remained where he was, staring the machine down with resolve. The balls themselves didn't seem too bad, the speed they were being ejected at rather manageable for the human body.

_ (Ouma didn't let that fool him, though. It would get worse, he knew it would. These bears were sadists, after all.) _

Gradually, the balls started to be ejected faster, some missing Hoshi while most hit their mark. Hoshi continued to wince and flinch, but held his ground, even as Ouma could see his hands ball into fists as he instinctively curled into himself. The audience was in an uproar of applause, as if his impending death was the most entertaining thing they'd ever seen.

_ (He bitterly supposed it was, if they matched Monokuma's mindset too. The lack of action on Hoshi's part was starting to make his classmates restless, he knew, especially when a racket to defend himself with was right in front of him. But Hoshi had sworn off tennis, and that was probably exactly why the racket was there to begin with. _

_ To mock him _

_ Finally, he heard Momota shout from behind him, and he could imagine his wide stance and determined expression without glancing back. "Damnit, Hoshi! Don't give up! You finally have something to live for, don't you?") _

Whether Hoshi could hear Momota from over the din of the rambunctious audience was unclear; it could have been coincidence that he suddenly tensed at that moment. The speed of the balls was starting to get dangerous as he pulled his hands out of his pockets and lunged for the racket, raw desperation breaking onto his face.

His fingers wrapped around the handle, and he tugged the racket out of the pedestal with ease. He instantly moved back, eyes sharp as he began to return each ball that came his way, his expertise showing as he didn't miss a single one. 

_ (Some of his classmates were starting to cheer him on, their own desperation bleeding into their tone, and like before, Ouma remained silent. He was glad Hoshi was holding out, but that wasn't going to last, was it?) _

The audience had devolved into incoherent screaming, and it wasn't made clear if that was out of delight or rage at Hoshi's attempt to survive. He was faring well despite the noise, most likely used to performing in front of an audience even after his hiatus.

No, what ended up distracting him was the sudden shackles and chains that erupted from the floor behind him, securing themselves to his ankles and wrists. 

He twisted around to look at them with visible surprise, and as he did, Monodam took the opportunity to push Yellow off the machine and directly into its line of fire. 

The next ball fired buried itself deep in his stomach, pushing through metal and exposing gears. 

_ (It was a useless warning. Ouma swallowed around the lump in his throat.) _

Hoshi's attention snapped back up as the next ball catapulted towards him, and luckily, he was quick enough to hit the ball, the chains lax enough to allow that movement. Unfortunately, his luck was negated by the fact that the ball shot cleanly through the racket, and while the force of the hit diverted the ball itself, it still rendered the racket useless. Hoshi stumbled back with the force, alarm written all over his face.

He didn't have much time to process that before a crackle of electricity cut through the thunderous background noise.

Hoshi cried out, body suddenly tensing as he dropped the racket with a clatter that was drowned out by his agonising scream. It didn't take much to figure out what had happened - the chains must be carrying some sort of electric current.

_ (The sound of his scream, like it was torn from his throat, sent a numbness through Ouma's chest. He could hear horrified sobbing and screaming behind him, but he wasn't surprised. It wasn't as bloody as the last execution, but-) _

His muscles must have seized, because Hoshi tipped to the side and fell to the ground in an unceremonious heap, expression contorted with torment as his scream tapered off unevenly. Though the distance made it difficult to tell, it looked like he was having difficulty breathing. 

_ (-it was harrowing to watch.) _

Even though Hoshi was down, the machine continued to spit balls at his incapacitated figure. The cardboard audience applauded as they pelted into him - the only slim mercy was that the cubs were too busy panicking over the death of their brother to continue filling the machine with more tennis balls.

Ouma wouldn't have been able to tell when Hoshi died if it wasn't for the immediate silence of the audience, followed by Hoshi's limp body suddenly beginning to violently spasm. The glass wall separating them from the fresh corpse began to slide down so the courtroom wall could replace it, marking the end of the execution.

It also filled the courtroom with the smell of burning flesh, an intense stench that assaulted the senses and had Ouma gagging. He pushed his lower face into his scarf, hastily pulling it up over his nose and holding it in place manually, not willing to risk it slipping off his face. The courtroom wall couldn't hide the execution grounds quick enough, cutting them off from the source of the smell.

_ (Ouma heard the distinct sound of someone throwing up behind him, and he really, really couldn't blame them.) _

* * *

Absentmindedly, he noted through the shocked rambling of the cubs that Red and Pink were called Monotaro and Monophanie, respectively. Yellow also had an actual name, but he was dead, so he didn't care to learn it. He turned around to face the others slowly, mostly ignoring the conversation happening between the bears as he assessed how his classmates were doing.

Almost everyone had a hand over their nose and mouth, their expressions showing various degrees of disgust and fear. It looked like Chabashira was the one who had been sick, because she was shuddering as Tojo pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and helped her clean her mouth, quietly talking her through it. Iruma and Momota both looked queasy too, and most of the class was paler than normal. Even Harukawa looked uncomfortable, though he supposed being an assassin didn't usually involve setting people on fire or electrocution. Not a very discreet way for someone to die, after all.

Gonta seemed to still be actively crying, quieting his sniffles behind his hand. Ouma went to stand beside him as he stole another glance at the bears, who were now having a strange development that involved Monodam explicitly threatening their father's position as headmaster. An interesting conversation, but also one he didn't care about, because it wasn't like Monodam would be any better than his father. 

Instead, he focused on Gonta as he placed the hand that wasn't holding up his scarf on his arm. He wasn't sure how to delicately breach the topic of him crying, and luckily, he didn't have to. After a few seconds, Gonta rapidly blinked in an attempt to clear his eyes of tears. "Sorry, Gonta doesn't mean to cry."

"Don't worry about it." Ouma replied without a second thought, because if they were being honest, crying was one of the most understandable reactions they could have. It was a miracle that only Gonta was in steady tears.

Gonta was quiet for a few moments, and Ouma rubbed his arm gently as he vaguely registered the cubs leaving. When he quietly spoke again, his voice was a little choked, even as his tears slowed. "It feels like it's his fault. If Gonta didn't say anything about his motive video, Hoshi-kun wouldn't have been the blackened and he wouldn't have to suffer such a horrible death."

Ah. Yikes.

Ouma dropped his hand from Gonta's arm, instead moving to huddle closer to him so he could murmur without being heard by anyone else. "It was a risk Hoshi was willing to take. If you hadn't said anything, we might not have realised he was the blackened and then we'd all be dying a horrible death. It's not your fault, it's just a super hard situation. Okay?"

Gonta looked down at him with teary eyes, before hesitantly nodding. "Okay. You're right." 

Ouma moved his scarf to show Gonta a half grin, before bracing himself as he inhaled. His nose wrinkled as it was once again assaulted by a less intense, but very present smell of flesh, and he held his scarf over his nose again. Monokuma had just left, so there was nothing keeping them here.

"Hey," He called, gaining the attention of the room as he stepped away from Gonta. "How about we go to the elevator to talk instead of staying here? I don't think the smell's gonna calm down anytime soon."

Ouma wasn't surprised that everyone was receptive to the idea, and it took them less than five minutes to cross the room and cram everyone into the elevator. Shinguuji silently pressed the manual button to close the doors, none of them willing to wait any longer and risk the smell following them up, before setting the elevator into motion while he was at it. 

He let go of his scarf as they began to ascend, and watched the others slowly lower their hands for the same reason. There was a silence filled by mechanical gears that remained for a few moments as every recovered from what they had witnessed. 

The icebreaker eventually came from Angie, who clasped her hands behind her back and smiling brightly, which hardly felt appropriate. "So...we never talked about Maki's talent, did we?"

Harukawa immediately tensed, sharp eyes snapping up towards Angie, who seemed unaffected by the intended intimidation. Momota, however, was the one to actually respond, unsurprisingly in Harukawa's defense. "Yeah, 'cause there's nothing to talk about."

Ouma made an incredulous noise, blinking quickly as his disbelief radiated from his being. "Yes there is?"

"It is, admittedly, a topic of concern." Tojo admitted softly, lacing her fingers together in front of her. "My apologies, Harukawa-san, but the secrecy you held over your talent is worrying."

"Come on guys, she just wanted a bit of privacy." Momota argued with a shocking amount of confidence for such a flimsy argument, arm lifting slightly as if to shield Harukawa. 

Iruma scoffed, scrutinising Harukawa with suspicious eyes. "Yeah, privacy so she can plot to kill us!"

"But she had loads of opportunities since the killing game started, and she hasn't taken any of them." Akamatsu pointed out, a light smile blooming on her face. Momota shot her a grateful look for the help. "That must be proof that we shouldn't judge her for her talent!"

"Are you sure about that?" Shinguuji asked, and Ouma noticed that he had been acting more distant and detached since the end of the trial. He wasn't sure if he should be concerned or not. "After all, we have yet to know who our mystery poisoner is."

Gonta shuffled nervously in place, no doubt because he had shared a similar thought a few hours prior. The temperature in the elevator seemed to drop, and the grumbling machinery filled their ears until Chabashira swallowed thickly and confronted Harukawa. "Did you try and poison Yumeno-san, Harukawa-san?"

Harukawa closed her eyes, clearly uncomfortable, before opening them and letting her gaze flicker to the left. "This is why I didn't tell you all about my talent sooner." Her voice was steady, but he found her evasion of the question more damning than any answer she could have given. "Every time someone finds out my talent, it ends the same way. They'll get overly paranoid and try to kill me before I can kill them, as if I'd want to. As soon as they know my talent, they form assumptions of me that they never bother to correct. It's annoying."

Ouma didn't quite like the fact that he could sympathise with Harukawa's reasoning, but that didn't stop him from doing so. He had hidden his own talent for very similar reasons after all, so it was inevitable that he related to what she was saying. 

Angie tutted, frowning to herself. "You still hid your talent from us, which gave you an advantage over us, didn't it? Your greed cages you without you even knowing." She spoke in a low tone that was strange to listen to after getting used to her upbeat way of speaking.

"Whatever." Harukawa shrugged it off, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and inadvertently exposing more of her face. "Whether you believe me or not is your choice, but I will say that I don't have any plans on killing any of you. The game aspect makes it more difficult, especially seeing as everyone will point fingers at me because of my talent anyway."

A silence followed, not quite as tense as before, and eventually Kiibo breached it to steer the conversation away from this topic, now that it seemed enough had been said. "On another note, I've been thinking about the previous killing game mentioned in Amami-kun's motive video. Do you think it could be linked to the Ultimate Hunt?"

"Ultimate Hunt, huh?" Momota repeated, most likely seizing the topic change for Harukawa's sake, as he placed a hand on his waist. "I guess it's possible."

"Are you saying that the Ultimate Hunt made the last killing game Amami-kun was in?" Gonta clarified, pushing his glasses up from where they had been slipping down his nose.

"I mean, our running theory is that the Ultimate Hunt is behind this killing game, right?" Chabashira shifted from foot to foot, hands repeatedly clenching into fists before relaxing again. "It'd make sense if they caught Amami-san first and put him into that earlier killing game, instead of Amami-san just having really bad luck and landing in two separate games."

"Yes, I agree." Kiibo nodded slowly, finger pressed to his lips. "Though that only makes me worry about this Ultimate Hunt more." 

Agreement rippled through the elevator, but seeing as it wasn't a topic anyone wanted to delve into when exhausted, it was swiftly dropped. There were a few attempts at conversation that fell flat, and eventually silence washed over them again.

With the trial and subsequent conversation out of the way, Ouma was forced to face his unstable relationship with Kiibo and his stupid actions that led to said instability. He eyed the robot with consideration as the elevator continued to ascend towards the Shrine of Judgement, knowing that he had to be the one to initiate conversation if they were going to settle the aftermath of their argument. 

They were both closer to the back of the elevator, so he had an opportunity to sneak up on him when the doors opened and their other classmates exited. He picked up on the way Kiibo tensed when he stopped a little closer than necessary, instantly beginning to speak because he wasn't a coward, he just had his priorities straight and now fixing things with Kiibo was his new top priority. "Hey, can I talk to you?"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew his tone had been slightly too chipper to sound genuinely serious. Keeping in mind Kiibo's current streak of ignoring his existence, he wasn't too surprised when he didn't spare him a glance. He did, however, receive a muttered reply. "I'm afraid I'm busy."

Kiibo left with long strides and Ouma, determined to get this over with now, hurried after him and reached out to catch his sleeve once they crossed the water and stepped back onto actual ground. Kiibo jerked to a stop, and glanced over his shoulder at him, green eyes sharp and firm. The look prompted a twinge of sadness, but Ouma ignored the feeling as he spoke in a softer, more somber voice. "It's important. Please, Kiibo."

He continued to stare wordlesy for a few more moments, and for a moment, Ouma thought he may have misjudged his character entirely and that Kiibo would turn his back on him. That moment, however, quickly passed as he let out a long sigh and turned to face Ouma fully, eyes softening before he closed them entirely to compose himself. "...Okay. What's the matter?"

Ouma relaxed, eyes darting over Kiibo's shoulder to make sure the others had left, not wanting to be overheard. There were a handful of people slipping out of the red doors; part of that handful was Akamatsu, who seemed to notice what was going on between them and sent him a thumbs up and a bright smile. Ouma resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at her, and waited until the door closed behind the last of their classmates before he sighed, giving Kiibo his full attention. He tugged his scarf down with one hand, brushing his hair out of his face with the other. "I wanted to apologise for, y'know, the argument yesterday." It didn't feel like it had been yesterday, but that was besides the point. "I lashed out, and while I didn't mean any of what I said, I still said it. And it hurt you so...I'm sorry." 

The apology felt lackluster to him, the words heavy and foreign on his tongue, but he didn't allow himself to backpedal. He was trying to be genuine with this, which meant speaking from the heart, or something like that. 

Kiibo was quiet, before slowly relaxing and nodding his head. "Apology accepted. I apologise for pressing you on the matter too. I could have approached the situation more delicately." There wasn't any change in his expression, but there was a shift in the atmosphere that made Ouma feel comfortable again, and he knew Kiibo was telling the truth. 

The two slowly began to make their way towards the red door, not silent for very long before Ouma grew restless and decided to quietly elaborate on his apology. "That thing about trust especially was a super big lie. Don't tell anyone, but out of everyone here? I trust you the most, cross my heart." He made the gesture over his chest, but didn't finish the statement. Wishing for death was a dangerous thing to say in any context here. 

Kiibo pushed open the red door, stepping through and holding it open. He turned to face Ouma with a soft smile on his face. "I trust you too, Ouma-kun." 

It was a simple declaration, but the words carried weight from Kiibo. Because while anyone else could and might say they trusted Ouma, it came from a place of ignorance - they didn't know his real talent and they didn't know how much he lied, to their faces, no less. But Kiibo was the only person that did, and he still placed his trust in him despite all that.

Ouma refused to let himself get emotional over something this simple though, weight or not. He stepped through the door and began to lead their walk back to the dorms, pulling his scarf back up to protect against the chilly night air. 

"Yeah, anyway," He drawled with an overly casual air to change the subject, folding his arms behind his head as he shot a teasing smirk at Kiibo. "I keep saving all your lives, y'know? This is- what, the second time I carried us through a trial? Maybe you guys should start calling me Ouma-sama."

"Nobody is going to call you that, Ouma-kun." Kiibo replied with a small roll of his eyes, words flooded with his usual fond exasperation. Ouma snickered, nudging him lightly with his elbow, secretly relieved with how easily they made up. 

"Hey, don't speak for everyone! Maybe  _ someone _ will be willing to address me as my proper title."

"Your proper title is sama?" He didn't sound like he believed him.

"Yeah, 'cause I'm a leader. C'mon, Kiiboy, you know this!"

The conversation itself didn't last long, simply dialogue to fill the space until they reached their dorms, but Kiibo's presence and the relaxed nature was enough to soothe the grief Ouma suppressed.

* * *

The door to their dorm closed behind them with a resounding click.

They were alone. 

They had a plan to make.

* * *

**12 STUDENTS REMAINING**

* * *

_The pessimist complains about the wind. The optimist expects it to change. The leader adjusts the sails. - John Maxwell_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that wraps up chapter 2!! 
> 
> You may have noticed that a Rather Large Bomb was dropped pretty early on. There have been hints that this fic's overall plot is a bit different from canon, but I think this is the first very prominent difference. This is the point where it starts to derail a little more from canon, mostly because the change in deaths and relationships affect the possibility and set up for certain subplots, so I'm excited!!
> 
> In other news, the title for this execution was a pun on "death row convict" for obvious reasons and "dead net" which is a situation when a tennis player scores by accidentally hitting the ball so it touches the upper cord of the net and falls into the opposition's court. Ironically, the player is considered lucky when it happens!! 
> 
> Also, you can vote for who Ouma spends Chapter 3 FTEs with here: https://forms.gle/xPLygMN4HVPa7v3d7
> 
> And thus starts my hiatus. I'm not sure when I'll be back, but hopefully around the beginning of next month!
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I'll see you next chapter!


	18. 3.1 : Daylight Exploration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The map of the academy steadily expands with another prize bundle, and Ouma watches it all happen.

**Chapter Three : Glass Defenses Are Better Than None**

* * *

Ouma stayed in bed a bit longer than he usually did.

Not long, just ten minutes past his usual waking time, spent staring blankly at the opposite wall where he had set up his whiteboard. He hadn't fixed the portraits he'd stuck up to keep formal track of who was alive or dead, but he felt no urge to get up and do it now. 

It hadn't really dawned on him yesterday; the loss they'd suffered. He had been focused on the trial, on suppressing in front of everyone else, and had fallen asleep shockingly promptly when he arrived back to the privacy of his dorm. There hadn't been  _ time _ for the facts to fully register in his mind.

Hoshi was dead. Amami was dead. 

Hoshi's death and murder plot had been a tragedy from start to finish, and he wasn't sure how to feel about Amami aside from the fact that he felt slightly hollower knowing he was gone for good. 

Ultimate Survivor. How fucking ironic.

Anyway, he thought he had earned the right to a little bit of wallowing before facing their small, encaged world.

When he had enough of that, he hauled himself out of bed and got himself ready for the day. He assumed his classmates would be handling this death the same way they had handled the last set of deaths - by pretending it never happened for as long as possible until forced to confront it. 

He assumed he was right, when he walked into the dining hall to find everyone talking amongst themselves, seemingly unbothered. He silently took a seat in between Shinguuji and Akamatsu, because there weren't any seats available next to Kiibo, and began to get his breakfast ready. Tojo had set out a few loaves of bread and a variety of spreads and fruit today, and buttering a slice for himself gave Ouma optimal time to eavesdrop and observe everyone from behind his bangs, to gauge the situation.

Despite the casual pretense, a tension buzzed in the air, low but ever present. The conversations themselves didn't catch his attention, if only because everything he heard sounded like small talk, but there were a few visible details that made him pause. The most obvious was the increase in vacant seats, a gap of four empty chairs at one end of the table that sat as an uncomfortable reminder of the things they were trying to ignore. 

Harukawa sat next to these empty seats, with Momota sitting beside her. She seemed to be turned away from the rest of them as she ate, looking distant and overall reluctant to be there. Ouma realised that a speckling of their classmates kept stealing throwaway glances at her and thought he could understand why she would want to be anywhere but here. 

Shinguuji was the other person who sat next to the vacant chairs, and seeing his eye linger on the empty seat beside him felt bittersweet. Ouma wasn't entirely sure of the depth of the connection between him and Amami, but it was clearly enough to have been affected by him. It was a sliver of something they had in common, but Ouma didn't utter a word to him. It looked like Shinguuji had been trying to isolate himself from the rest of the group, and he felt no reason to disrupt him now.

He ate his way through his breakfast as he listened to Iruma try to rile Akamatsu up from across the table. It was working, and their conversation devolved to a round of bickering before Akamatsu shut her down completely. It was entertaining, but Ouma mercifully decided to keep his comments to himself, letting himself exist without eyes on him for a bit.

_ "Keep your usual reactions to yourself, it's just me, your lovely headmaster!" _

That was, until Monokuma materialised as he knew he inevitably would. Ouma actually snorted at his opening line, leaning back in his chair as he pushed his plate away. "Ew, not this guy again. I was sure we'd get lucky after two trials and be let go because you got bored of the game." He taunted sarcastically, well aware that poking the enemy wasn't the best idea even if several pairs of eyes didn't start shooting glares at him. 

"Hey, show some respect!" Monokuma grumbled, pointing at him as if that was meant to intimidate him when he didn't even come up to his hip. Ouma stared back with a thin smile as the bear waved his paw dismissively. "But that's not important! You were right about one thing - you guys have made it through two class trials and you're still alive! So, in celebration, I have some things to give you."

An awkward pause followed, and considering how Monokuma held his position, it was obvious this was supposed to be a cue for something. After a few moments of nothing happening and no sign of  _ anything _ happening soon, Monokuma dropped his position and tilted his head. "Huh? Where are my adorable cubs with the prize bundle?"

It was a good question. Usually, they were prompt with their entrances, so this weird limbo of waiting was unprecedented. It didn't last long though, as before Monokuma could start shouting for them, they appeared with a chorused:

_ "Rise and shine, ursine!" _

They popped up like usual, Monophanie holding the same fabric bag they had received a few days prior. The cubs didn't draw attention to it, though, and after a few moments, Monokuma finally began badgering them. "Hey, why aren't you cubs showing off the prize-"

"No."

Monodam shut him up mid-sentence, and Monokuma seemed momentarily stunned. The lack of response allowed the cubs to start a tangent, lamenting on the years of abuse and labour they had to go through, and how they wouldn't stand for it any longer. They argued that Monokuma was getting old, and was overdue for retirement. That they were going to force him to retire by taking over as the new headmasters of the academy. 

(Ouma took a moment within this speech to look back at his classmates. He locked eyes with Iruma, who was wide eyed, and the two of them exchanged a few baffled gestures before refocusing on the bears.)

Monokuma reacted to this very clear act of rebellion and revolution by exploding into a laughing fit. The noise was grating, like nails on a chalkboard, and the students winced as the Monokubs firmly stood their ground. Or, more accurately, Monodam firmly stood his ground while his siblings shrunk away from their father's hysterical figure. 

The laughing stopped abruptly after carrying a bit too long, and Monokuma sounded flat when he spoke. "Wait. You're being serious."

"Yes, we are. We will no longer allow you to continue your tyrannical rule. The Ultimate Academy for Gifted Juveniles is now under our harmonious control!" Monodam proclaimed, sounding less than sane - which was fine, he hadn't been expecting any less from these bears, but it was a strange thing to hear through that robotic voice.

Monokuma stared at his unruly kids for a few long moments before chuckling, shaking his head as he replied with condescension dripping from his tone. "It really isn't as easy running the show as you seem to think it is! But you know what? Sure, you take over and see you deal with it."

And just like that, Monokuma left with his cackles echoing behind him.

The cubs exchanged a few glances, visibly surprised at how smoothly that exchange went. For a moment, they seemed a bit lost, before Monodam nudged Monophanie to prompt her, and she finally got to the original point. "Oh, oh yes! As the new headmasters, we have a new prize bundle for you all! How cool is that?"

She dropped the bag, and the three of them rummaged inside it before pulling out one item each, holding it up in the air to show them off. Once they were sufficiently being waved around, she continued her explanation. "We have a Ninja Scroll, a Magic Key and a Golden Hammer for you guys to grab!"

They deposited the items back into the bag and began clapping once their paws were free, Monotaro cheering loudly. "Bravo, bravo! What good junk!"

"We look forward to working with you all," Monodam said, and while the words were genuine, Ouma was pretty sure their ideals didn't match up enough for him to return the sentiment. Monophanie scurried over to him and handed him the bag, clearly noticing how he had been the one to guard it last time, and he accepted it without a glance in her direction, putting it down on the table. "And we hope we all get along!"

The other two nodded along as Monophanie regrouped with them, and it was fairly obvious they were going to leave, having fulfilled their current duty. Their departure was tragically delayed by one of his classmates, easily breaching the silence between them.

_ "You're the ones supposedly in charge now, right? Can I ask you a question?" _

The cubs froze, turning simultaneously with the rest of the class to face Saihara, who had predictably kept to himself up until that point. He was sitting straight, hands in his lap and plate as empty as it was before he arrived, and cringed when the room's attention turned to rest squarely on him. Monodam was the one to respond to his actual question. "Yes. What is it?"

Saihara sighed, the sound tired, and Ouma was sure he took a moment to glance at all of them before finally speaking, fidgeting with his sleeves. "Do you have any painkillers? There aren't any suitable substitutes on the warehouse's chemicals shelf."

His eyebrows pinched together as he narrowed his eyes at the detective. It wasn't the strangest thing to ask about, but similarly, it held implications that Ouma wouldn't be able to find the answer to without confronting Saihara, and he didn't really plan to do so. On the bright side, it seemed like the cubs were as surprised as he was, because they exchanged a few glances and huddled together to mutter.

When they broke out of their huddle, Monotaro turned to them and laughed nervously. "Uh, well, we'll get back to you on that one!" And with that, they disappeared, with a haste that made it clear they were hurrying to run away. He glanced over at Saihara, but as per usual, he seemed to be ignoring everyone in favour of staring at his hands. 

"What a strange flow of events!" Angie mused, looking far too calm with her smile fixed on her face. She leaned forward with her elbows on the table, resting her chin in her palms. "So what are we going to do? The prizes should mean new areas, right? That's exciting!"

"I'm not sure if I would call it exciting." Tojo murmured, nursing a cup of tea in her hands as she pressed her lips into a line. "It's interesting to see, but it feels dangerous to have a larger playing field, so to speak."

The larger the area, the easier to kill someone and get away with it, was the presumable thought Tojo was trying to convey. Ouma couldn't help but agree with that cautious sentiment, even though it wouldn't stop him.

"It's fine! We just need to stop being greedy." Angie cooed, and while her smile was light, her voice had darkened by the end of her sentence. Greed seemed to be a popular topic of discussion with her, and he wondered when she was going to drop it for good. Clearly, none of them were entertaining her attempts at preaching, so why was she bothering?

Momota cleared his throat, drawing attention to himself as his eyes darted away from Angie. He was visibly uncomfortable, but quick to recover once he had eyes on him. "Anyway, so I'm guessing the plan is to look for things to use the prizes on?"

"Well, what else are we supposed to do?" Ouma teased, letting a smile slip onto his face as he got to his feet. He grabbed the bag from the table, taking a peek inside to see the items that had been shown off, before hooking it on his shoulder. "Oh-kay, you guys know the drill! Find something that might work, you come and get me."

The feedback was mostly agreements, because of course everyone remembered when the last time they used this system was a couple days ago, before the class began to move. Saihara left as soon as the noise began to pick up again, and Tojo busied herself with cleaning up after those who finished breakfast. 

Ouma might have gone to pester Kiibo, if he hadn't been distracted by a hard poke on the shoulder, but duty calls. He turned to face a stony faced Chabashira, and cracked a grin. "What's up, Chabashira-chan?"

"I think I know where to use one of the items." She explained curtly, before holding out one of her hands expectantly. Ouma might have let her take it, if she hadn't made it obvious how much she wanted to go alone. 

Instead, he leaned back lightly against the table, his grin growing wider. "M'kay! Lead the way!"

She let out a sound similar to a choked yelp, her serious front crumbling as she threw her arms out, bent at the elbows, as if to make sure she kept her balance. "What? You don't need to come! Just give me the scroll!"

"Yeah, but if it doesn't work on whatever you're thinking of, then you'll have to try and track me down to give it back. Isn't that more of a hassle than me tagging along?" Ouma presented it like a mindblowing offer, instead of simple logic like it was. Chabashira paused, dwelling over the merit of his points as she glanced to the side in thought. Mostly likely weighing how much faith she had on the item working.

"Ouma-kun has a point." Akamatsu helpfully piped up from where she was sitting beside them, and Chabashira jolted slightly at the reminder that she was there. Akamatsu's eyes brightened with an idea, pushing into a stand herself "Oh! I can come with you, if that would make you feel more comfortable, Chabashira-san."

Chabashira's expression softened at the preposition, lips curling into a smile, and she didn't need to say a word for Ouma to know that the answer was yes. 

* * *

"They mentioned a ninja scroll, so that has to have something to do with the ninja statue out here!"

Chabashira had marched them out to the lower courtyard, and was now standing awfully proudly beside the statue that stood solitary in the grass. Akamatsu clapped her hands together, eyes bright. "Oh, I forgot about this statue! I guess when you pass by it enough times it blends in. Nice job, Chabashira-san!"

"It's nothing, really." Chabashira sheepishly waved a hand, her cheeks rosy with embarrassment at the compliment. She realised he was still there a few moments later, and scrambled to recover, clearing her throat loudly as she held a hand out towards him. "Anyway, I need the scroll so I can put it somewhere on the statue."

Considering the vagueness of the request, Ouma knew she hadn't checked the statue for what to do yet, and out of spite, he was very tempted to deny her. However, he hadn't woken up planning on making an enemy today, so he instead sighed and fished the scroll out of the bag, handing it to her. If he took a little longer than strictly necessary, then that was nobody's business other than his own.

Chabashira didn't thank him, but he didn't expect her to. She turned to the statue with a small pout, twisting her hands around the scroll. Akamatsu shuffled closer to him as Chabashira was distracted, smiling with a hint of cheek as she glanced over at him. "So you and Kiibo-kun made up, right?"

Ouma's returning smile was taunting, but his voice was as cheerful as ever. "Y'know, aside from the fact that it's none of your business, I'm pretty sure you already know the answer to that!"

She giggled, proving his point as her smile softened, watching Chabashira light up in realisation. She must have figured out where the scroll went. "Well, I'm glad things are okay between you two."

Ouma hummed, but gave no further response as Chabashira slotted the scroll through two holes in the statue's mask. A low rumble rippled through the area in response, and he found himself surprised by the trees in the background suddenly falling, the sound of cracking wood echoing as they collapsed on top of each other. This cleared an area that had previously been covered with trees, which was very handy, because without giving them a moment to process the sudden deforestation, an honest-to-God  _ building _ sprouted up from the ground.

An accompanying path rose up to existence too, connecting to the courtyard itself. Taking a less shocked look at the new building made Ouma realise that it actually looked like a stereotypical dojo, aside from the bright blue neon lights on its roof, flickering for attention. He glanced over at Chabashira, curious how she'd react, and found her starry eyed. 

"A dojo!" She gushed, stating the obvious as she seemed to get a burst of energy, bouncing on the balls of her feet with a giddy smile. "Of course, no school is complete without one! Come on, let's go!" She took a few steps towards it, pausing to check they were following her, only for her eyes to land on him. Clearly, she had forgotten he was here, as she squinted. "And I wasn't talking to you, Ouma-san."

"What was that?" Ouma asked, faux innocent as he raised a hand to cup his ear, because the opportunity was too good and he had conveniently already forgotten that he wasn't making enemies today. Without waiting for a reply, he gasped and clasped his hands to his chest, fluttering his eyelashes. "You were talking to me  _ specifically _ ? Why, Chabashira-chan, I'm honoured!"

Chabashira's expression twisted into irritation, and Ouma might have faced some physical repercussion for his words if Akamatsu hadn't instantly stepped in to chide them, arms held out. "Come on guys, at least  _ try _ to get along. Otherwise we'll never get inside the dojo, and I've never been inside one before, so I want to see what it looks like!"

She ushered them all into moving, and her admission had been a perfect distraction for Chabashira, who had disbelief painted on her face. "Never? Oh, Akamatsu-san, visiting a dojo for the first time is a magical experience!"

Ouma doubted that was a universal opinion, but didn't voice that as he rolled up to the doors. Instead, he opened them and, for once, stepped aside to gesture for the others to go first. "Ladies first!" He chirped, with a smile that was just a hint of mockery. Chabashira, of course, insisted that Akamatsu went first before following her, with Ouma close behind. 

The smell of fresh tatami punched him in the nose as he slipped inside, the three of them cramped together as the floor was a balcony that looped around the edges of the room. The main platform, floored with predictable tatami mats, was in the centre, and it looked like the only way to access it was via the wooden scaffolds, suspended in midair by chains. The one closest to the door was, helpfully, level with the floor, but the others were set at varying heights. Signs lit in neon lights, not nearly as obnoxiously bright as the ones outside, were situated on the walls. 

The main platform itself was mostly scarce - to leave room for any training, he imagined. A balance pole occupied one lone corner, and automated training dummies that mechanically punched were lining the left and right sides. At the very end of the room was an alcove, lined with short purple curtains at the top, and within that alcove was a  _ giant wooden doll _ . Because that was normal, and had a good explanation for being there. 

"This is amazing! This has  _ got _ to be my Ultimate lab!" Chabashira squealed, hopping onto the scaffold that bridged the gap over to the main platform without batting an eye. Akamatsu tried to follow her, but seemed to struggle as she realised how unsteady a suspended scaffold was - not much, but anything was unsteady when you were expecting solidity. Chabashira let out a small gasp, reaching out to help steady her and lead her to the solid platform. "Hang on, you're distributing your weight weirdly. Let me help!"

Akamatsu smiled in gratitude, and Ouma waited for the two of them to cross over to the platform before skipping over himself, unbothered by the slight rocking underneath his feet. He landed neatly on the other side, smiling as he folded his arms behind his back, but went ignored as Chabashira's attention finally returned to the dojo now that Akamatsu was considered safe. 

"This dojo is so cool! I'm so excited!" This was made apparent by the fact she was quite literally buzzing with energy, slowly turning to take in the dojo as a whole. "I can't wait to spar in here, I'm sure it'll be amazing."

Ouma snorted quietly, thinking about how she looked reminiscent of an overexcited chihuahua. Akamatsu, taking the conversation a bit more seriously than Ouma, furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "Spar? Don't you need a sparring partner for that?"

Chabashira moved closer to her as she spoke, and as soon as the question was out of Akamatsu's mouth, she grabbed her arm and flipped her over her shoulder with a shout. Ouma blinked in surprise as Akamatsu shrieked upon impact, Chabashira quickly releasing her once she was securely on the ground. 

"Why- Why did you do that?" Akamatsu cried, carefully pushing herself up into a sitting position and wincing at the movement, rubbing her back awkwardly.

Chabashira, in direct contrast, beaming as she fell into an attack stance, hands up and feet apart. "Neo-Aikido is super serious, so we don't train. We just fight head on and learn from that!"

Akamatsu reached up to make sure her hair was still in place with a sigh, before readjusting her treble clef pin, which had become lopsided. "Well, that's alright, but at least warn me before you do that."

Chabashira nodded sagely, dropping her stance as she adopted a serious expression. "You're a bit insecure, right?"

"W-What?" Akamatsu asked, bewildered by the change in conversation. Ouma, suddenly feeling like he was intruding on something, looked between the two of them with the same sort of interest you'd have in a television drama.

"You hide it from everyone and try not to think about it, but you feel like you need to live up to something." Chabashira smiled softly, but her eyes gave way to confidence, as if she was sure everything she was saying was fact. "You don't, because you're perfect the way you are, but that's weighing you down a bit, right? I can always tell when my sparring partner is bothered by something."

A moment of hesitation passed before Akamatsu realised she was waiting for an answer, and mumbled agreement. Pride flashed across Chabashira's face, no doubt because her assumption was right, before she made quick chopping motions with her hands. "You know what really helps you work through that insecurity? Neo-Aikido! Because as a martial art, it honours a pure heart above all else. Work up a sweat with me, and I'm sure you'll feel a lot better!"

There was an innuendo in that statement, but because Ouma wasn't Iruma, he kept it to himself. 

On the bright side, Chabashira's little speech clearly had a positive effect on Akamatsu, as she raised to her feet with a gentle smile. "I'm not really an athletic person, but I appreciate the offer, Chabashira-san."

Chabashira nodded, before finally recognising that Ouma was still here. Her attention snapped over to him, her smile and eyes adopting an edge of spite that did not bode well for him. "What about you, Ouma-san? Want to spar?"

Ouma had a feeling he  _ didn't _ , the memory of his shoulder hitting the kitchen floor faint but not gone. He smiled, tilting his head to the side as he hummed. "Not really. I mean, we already sparred, y'know? When we first met, in the kitchen."

"You can spar more than once." Chabashira shot back, and while she looked mildly embarrassed by the reminder, she didn't seem disappointed by his refusal. "And that wasn't sparring, anyway! That was my reflexes - which I warned you about, you jerk!"

"Mhm, sure you did." Ouma said in an obviously disbelieving tone, even though he knew that everything she had said had been the truth. She knew it too, judging by the way her expression twisted, sparing Akamatsu a glance. Maybe to see if she believed him, or maybe to see if she'd stop him.

In the end, that was unnecessary, because they were interrupted by a new voice, just outside the door of the dojo. 

_ "Ouma-kun, are you in there?" _

He spun on his heel immediately at the voice, gaze quick to find the source. He could hear Akamatsu giggle behind him and ignored her as the door cracked open, and Kiibo peeked inside. Awe crossed over his face as he stepped inside properly. "This lab is very impressive! I assume it's yours, Chabashira-san?"

"It sure is!" Chabashira proudly replied, as if a compliment to her dojo was a compliment to her own character. Ouma assumed that, to her, that was basically true.

"What's up, Kiiboy? Did you miss me?" Ouma chirped with a tilted grin, folding his arms behind his head as he was quick to get back to the issue at hand. The movement was weighed down by the bag over his shoulder, but not by much.

"Well, I certainly missed your bag of strange objects." Kiibo mused with a light smile, eyes flickering to the scaffold with an apprehension that made it obvious he wasn't going to try and cross over. "Angie-san said she found something that may be unlocked near Harukawa-san's lab, and I believe she may be right."

"You're only looking for me for my objects? How cold!" Ouma sobbed dramatically, making a show of wiping at one eye, before grinning at Kiibo's familiar eye roll. He was light on his feet as he hopped across the scaffold back to the entrance, holding the strap of the bag with both hands. "We better get going, then." He glanced behind his shoulder, waving at the girls. "Have fun, you two! Don't wait up!"

Akamatsu waved the two of them off, looking mildly amused, as Chabashira gave a brief nod before redirecting her attention to the pianist. Ouma turned back to Kiibo, gesturing for him to lead the way, and fell into comfortable step beside him when he complied.

Unfortunately, Kiibo still walked as slowly as ever, so Ouma inevitably took the lead from him by the time they had crossed the entrance hall, but neither of them were complaining. 

What Ouma  _ was  _ more than ready to complain about was reaching the stairs to find Saihara standing on the bottom step, leaning against the railing with his hands in his coat pockets.

His eyes were hidden behind the brim of his hat, but Ouma could  _ feel _ his gaze following them as they approached the stairs, and instinctively fixed his scarf to further hide his own face. Kiibo was the one who spoke up, brows furrowed. "Saihara-kun? I didn't see you here earlier."

"That would be because I wasn't here earlier." Saihara murmured back, scuffing one of his shoes against the edge of the step. He sounded disinterested, as if he hadn't expected to be engaged in conversation despite his strange loitering.

"Okay, so," Ouma dragged the syllables out, rocking forward on his feet as he raised an eyebrow in silent question. "What are you doing now? Did you need one of my objects or something?"

Saihara shook his head quietly, lips curling into a small smile. "No. I'm not looking for the new areas anyway."

"You're not? Why not?" Ouma shouldn't be surprised anymore, and yet he found himself agreeing with Kiibo's shocked response. From what he was aware, all the others put  _ some _ level of effort into finding the new areas, and later exploring them once they were opened. It made sense to want to know your surroundings, after all.

He folded his arms over his chest, scrutinizing the small fraction of Saihara's face that was actually visible. "Yeah, aren't you at least a little curious?"

Saihara shrugged, turning his head away from them to stare intently at some random spot on the wall. "I can take a look later. There just doesn't seem much of a point to looking when everyone else already is. Besides, most of you are less comfortable with me around."

"Maybe we'd be more comfortable with you if you actually helped, instead of standing around, doing nothing." Ouma deadpanned, not trying to hide his passive aggressiveness. Kiibo gave him a look that made it obvious he didn't approve of this approach, he could feel it, but he kept his eyes on the unresponsive Saihara. 

"More help  _ is _ better than less, so it'd be appreciated if you tried to help, at least." Kiibo sighed, stepping closer to press his fingertips to the small of Ouma's back, and he knew it was a prompt to just keep moving. He was stubborn, and part of him wanted to stay put, but he had a feeling nothing more was going to come out of this conversation, so he begrudgingly began walking again. He skipped up the stairs quickly, passing Saihara and noting how he turned away from them once they passed. 

"You shouldn't provoke Saihara-kun." Kiibo whispered once they were out of earshot, rounding the corner to Tojo's lab for good measure. "I'm sure he has his reasons for not participating in the exploration today, and even if he didn't, it's better not to make enemies here."

"Are you suggesting that Saihara-chan would kill me for questioning him?" Ouma snorted, smirking as Kiibo grew flustered by the question, shaking his head quickly. 

"What? Of course not, I- I'm sure he'd never-!"

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding." He snickered, elbowing Kiibo in the side as he cut off the rest of his nervous rambling. Ouma sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know he's probably got some reason for it. I mean, he asked for painkillers this morning, so that's gotta mean something, but it's so  _ annoying _ , y'know?"

The look Kiibo gave him was resigned, but understanding. "I know it is, but I can understand why he came to the conclusion that his help was unnecessary, no matter how incorrect that is."

Ouma hummed, giving a single nod before the group waiting for them came into view. Tojo, Angie and Iruma were clustered around a grey and brown fortress style door that looked like it was plucked straight from a retro video game, pixelated. He was surprised he had never noticed it before - though he supposed he never had any reason to pass it to get to Harukawa's lab, and it was settled within the shadow of the corner. 

Iruma was visibly more impatient than the other two, arms folded and tapping her foot, so it wasn't too much of a surprise that she spotted them first. She sneered, staring Ouma in the eye to make it clear she was talking to him and him alone. "Took you long enough! What the fuck, were you caught with your pants off or something?"

Ouma ran his tongue over his upper teeth, prepared to spit an insult back to start their usual comedy act, but was robbed of the opportunity by Kiibo, who spoke with a small frown. "He was in the lower courtyard at Chabashira-san's new lab, and we ran into Saihara-kun on the way here, so I believe the time we took is reasonable."

"Oh, right. I- I guess that makes sense." Iruma stumbled over her words, her confident bravado hanging together by a thread. Ouma hid his smug grin behind his scarf, instead nodding along in mock wisdom.

"Oh, Chabashira-san has a lab now?" Angie cooed, eyes wide and bright and her hands clasped together, tucked under her chin. "That's good! Atua says it may help her calm down."

"Calm down?" Kiibo repeated slowly, tilting his head to the side, puzzled. "But she isn't particularly angry. Not from what I've seen, at least."

"Now, now. You don't have to be angry to need to calm down!" She replied cheerfully, waving a finger towards him in a stereotypical, scolding manner. "Chabashira-san is greedy, because she still wants to leave and that greed can become dangerous. But, if she has something she likes here, like her Neo-Aikido, then maybe she'll be less greedy!"

"What bullshit drug trip are you on now?" Iruma complained loudly, squinting one skeptical eye at the artist. The content of her words was familiar, something Angie had mentioned a few days prior, but everyone had disagreed with them then, and it seemed they still disagreed now.

Even so, the way she spoke was...slightly concerning.

Ouma would have dwelled on the topic of Angie's strange behaviour further, if Tojo hadn't interrupted them with a polite clearing of her throat. "Ouma-kun, I believe you have a pixelated key that matches this door, right?" Tired of waiting, it seemed - he couldn't really blame her.

"Right. Probably!" He rummaged through the bag, retrieving the aforementioned key and finding it curious, how the sharp edges felt oddly soft. He would have assumed the bears would, at least, take any chance to risk them injury, if death was off limits due to the game. He raised it into the air proudly as he made his way to the door with large steps. "Tada!"

He put the key into the keyhole without resistance, and turned it. With a click, the individual pixels began to glow gold and vibrate, the change spreading from the keyhole outwards. Ouma knew more than enough about video games to guess what was about to happen, but he didn't have time to move back himself before Kiibo was yanking him back by the arm. 

He regained his footing just in time for the door to explode in a thousand tiny pixels, dissolving as soon as they made contact with the floor. The disappearance of the door revealed a bland corridor with a dull tile floor, but that was hardly the most important thing in those sequence of events.

Iruma must have felt similarly, because she was quick to exclaim in a mixture of awe and surprise. "Whatever kind of fucking technology that is, it's impressive! Not a scrap of debris!" She glanced around to validate her claim, an almost giddy smile on her face before she realised his eyes were on her. She instantly tried to play it cool, scoffing as she brushed some hair out of her face. "Not as good as my work though, obviously. This sorta tech is a breeze for me."

"This must lead to the fourth floor." Tojo noted thoughtfully, pressing her finger to her bottom lip. She stepped closer to the opening, peering further inside. "It would be a good idea to take a look around the new floor, right?"

"Right!" Angie chirped excitedly, lacking any caution the others may have. "Oh, I wonder if my lab will be on this floor? I'd love to have a proper art space again!" With that lovely thought in mind, she took the lead, skipping down the corridor. After a moment of pause, Tojo followed with Iruma reluctantly trailing along.

"Ouma-kun? Are you coming?" Kiibo looked at him expectantly, and with a hint of confusion, as he lingered back, content to watch the girls go on ahead. 

"Yeah, yeah, sure." Ouma shifted from foot to foot, flashing a half grin as he placed his hands on his waist, gaze flickering to the corner of his eye. "I was just thinking while I'm here, I'd pop into Harukawa-chan's lab! Now that she has nothing to hide, y'know?"

Kiibo frowned, his own gaze travelling to the door around the corner. "I'm...not sure that's a good idea. Harukawa-san may not want us to see her lab regardless of whether we know her talent or not."

"Are you telling me you're  _ not _ curious?" Ouma challenged, and allowed himself an overly smug grin when Kiibo was unable to counter his point. Instead, the robot grumbled as he drifted towards him, away from the new corridor. 

It was pretty obvious that Ouma had convinced him.

Kiibo lingered a few polite steps behind Ouma as he knocked on the lab door. There was no immediate response, so for annoyance's sake, Ouma was preparing to bang much louder on the door to make sure he wasn't being ignored. 

The door opened slightly as his hand was suspended midair, building momentum, and for a moment, Ouma was frozen in a silent staring contest with violet eyes. Momota blinked first, and breaking out into a grin, Ouma stepped back and dropped his arm. "Momota-chan! What are you doing here? Did Harukawa-chan let you in?"

"Yeah! I saw the door and Tojo said they were waiting for you, so I came to hang out with Harumaki while we waited." Momota explained with a half chuckle, leaning against the doorframe and conveniently blocking the view of the interior of the room. "Though I could ask you guys the same thing. What's up?"

"You called her Harumaki and she hasn't attacked you yet?" Ouma joked, deflecting from the actual question. Not because he was nervous, or otherwise didn't want to answer, but because the thought of Momota calling Harukawa something so cutesy was hilarious. 

Momota shook his head, though his expression gave away his sheepish amusement. "She hasn't, but I wouldn't recommend calling her that."

Ouma snorted, rising to the tips of his toes to see if he could peek over Momota's shoulder. He couldn't see much either way, so he dropped back to the ground and finally got to business. "Anywaaay, I was wondering if I could see Harukawa-chan's lab now that she doesn't have to hide it!"

Momota wasn't as likely to turn him down as Harukawa, but considering their weird friendship, it was a possibility, so it still felt like a victory as his eyes lit up. "Oh yeah, sure thing, man! Come in." He pushed the door open wider and stepped aside, motioning for them to enter. Ouma did, with Kiibo following close behind, and he registered the click of the door closing behind them as he took in the lab itself.

It was darker than the others, he noticed almost immediately, illuminated dimly by teal and dark blue neon lights. The room itself held an air of organised chaos, with most of the space taken up by shelves and black or grey cases, most likely hiding different kinds of weapons. The most noticeable of these shelves was directly opposite the entrance, backdropped by chain link fencing. It held an assortment of blades - knives, machetes, axes and even a couple of chainsaws. Unsettling, definitely, but not what made the display eye-catching. No, it drew the eye because behind the fencing was a long white area lit up by bright LED lights, making it the brightest area of the entire lab by a wide margin. It was a shooting range, if the LED outlines of targets moving back and forth down the length of the area meant anything. 

Harukawa was by the targets, and must have only just realised their presence, because she began moving quickly around the chain link. Ouma took a quick opportunity to flick his gaze to the opposite corner of the lab, taking in the row of guns hung up on the wall and the tube in the center of the room, lit up by teal spotlights. The tube display held a mannequin dressed in a deep red cloak - a stereotypical assassin costume, though personally, Ouma thought it looked more suited for a cult.

"Why did you let them in here?" Harukawa griped, arms folded tightly across her chest in a position that screamed defensive as she came to a stop in front of them. He supposed a sudden invasion of privacy would do that.

"They asked, and I didn't see why I should say no?" Momota answered slowly, rubbing the back of his neck as he received an understandable death glare in response. "If you want people to trust you, you've gotta be a bit more open! They'll never try to think of you any differently otherwise. Besides, it's just Ouma and Kiibo. It's not like I invited the whole class in here."

Harukawa was clearly unhappy with this explanation, but after a long moment of staring sharply at Momota, she simply sighed and began to massage her temples. 

Kiibo took the opportunity to speak up now that the issue with them being in the room had seemingly settled, eyeing the shooting range. "Then it really is true, that you're the Ultimate Assassin."

Harukawa opened a single eye, not dropping her hands from her temples as she stared Kiibo down with a humourless huff. "The motive video wasn't enough to convince you?" There was something bitter in her tone, and Ouma could see Momota shuffle awkwardly at her words. 

"I never saw your motive video." Kiibo said, blunt and true as he met her gaze unwavering, before it flickered back around the room. "I know it's illogical, but somehow, I couldn't help but hope it was perhaps a misunderstanding. Illogical, considering you essentially confessed yesterday, but a hope nonetheless."

Harukawa didn't respond outside a pursing of lips, so Ouma decided to add his official two cents, humming as he wandered further into the room. "Yeah, for the record, Harukawa-chan, I'm not upset you hid your talent or anything. Your reasoning makes a lot of sense, actually! But it does make you seem more suspicious in a situation like this by default."

Ouma could feel Kiibo's gaze drilling a hole in the back of his head, accusing him of hypocrisy, and willfully ignored it because his words were shared  _ because _ he knew he was a hypocrite.

"Yeah, whatever." Harukawa glanced away, letting her hair settle like a curtain around her face with the movement. She continued, words mumbled in a failed attempt to not to be heard. "Not like I'm not used to it."

Momota, for some reason, appeared delighted by the way this conversation panned out, hands against his waist as he grinned brightly with an undertone of smugness. "See! I told you not everyone would be against you!"

Harukawa rolled her eyes in a way that radiated irritation, but didn't attempt to argue. Ouma decided now was the perfect time to approach the right corner of the room, where the guns lined the walls. He stopped by some weapon cases, pulling out his sceptre so he could point it directly at the guns, turning to look expectantly at Harukawa. "Are these guns real?"

He was mildly disappointed when his answer came from Momota, because he had been hoping to coax Harukawa into talking more, but he didn't let that show on his face as the astronaut wandered over to him. "Nah, those are just airsoft guns. I was curious about it too, when I first came in."

Ouma gave a nod to show he was listening, squinting at the guns. There had to be a reason they weren't real guns in the Ultimate Assassin's lab, especially in something like a killing game. Kiibo, still hovering near the door, examined the firearms display with visible contemplation before his eyes lit up. "Perhaps that's because if we had access to real firearms, we would be more likely to be able to overpower the Exisals? Monokuma, or the Monokubs, wouldn't want to risk that possibility."

It made sense, unfortunately, and Ouma stepped back with a heavy sigh. Momota snapped his fingers, a look of mild horror and anger dawning on his face. "Damnit! I didn't even think of that, but you're right. We could've ganged up on them with something like that!"

"Well, we couldn't." Kiibo said flatly, eyebrows drawn together. "Because they're airsoft guns, and therefore ineffective against the Exisals. It was just a hypothetical."

Ouma was sure Momota would have some sort of retort to that, but he decided he didn't want to hear it, and loudly drew attention to himself as he swung his sceptre around to point to the weapons shelf in front of the shooting range. "What about those weapons? Are they real?"

Harukawa, standing at the weapons shelf itself, took a glance behind her shoulder before muttering. "Yeah. Probably because blades and chainsaws aren't very effective against metal unless they have certain teeth."

Ouma clicked his tongue as he slipped his sceptre into its holster, before clapping his hands together. "Well!" He said in a purposefully upbeat tone. "I think Harukawa-chan might have been onto something about not letting people into her lab."

Momota instantly disagreed, visibly offended, and even Harukawa seemed to be surprised. "Ouma, don't say shit like that! Don't you want Harukawa to be able to be more open?"

There were so many details to that question that would make Ouma an even bigger hypocrite if he answered positively, so instead, he simply shrugged and offered a small smile. "Sure, but this lab has actual blades and, if you've somehow forgotten, we  _ are _ still in a killing game! Letting everyone have easy access here would make it more likely for someone to take advantage of the resources."

"He has a point." Harukawa murmured, eyes sliding over to Momota as he made an affronted noise. She groaned quietly, balling her hands into fists. "I don't want to let anyone else in here, if I can help it. It's dangerous. But if you're going to be this annoying about it, I guess I can spend more time around the academy."

Ouma couldn't be sure what had been going on between the two prior, but this must have been a compromise of sorts, because Momota's face brightened with a large smile. He placed a hand at his waist, leaning towards Harukawa with a hopeful look in his eye. "With me?"

"That's pushing it." Harukawa said sternly, though Ouma was sure he could see the corners of her mouth twitch upwards, for a moment. Maybe Momota really was succeeding in getting closer to her.

"I believe we've intruded for a bit too long." Kiibo interjected, fidgeting with his gloves again. Ouma had noticed that he had been a bit detached from the conversation since they entered the lab, so he wasn't surprised that he wanted to leave quickly. "Thank you for letting us look around, Harukawa-san."

" _ I _ didn't let you do anything." Harukawa shot a sharp glare at Momota, who simply laughed it off as he offered her a shrug.

"Hey, it turned out okay, didn't it?"

Ouma exchanged quick goodbyes, with maybe a bit of teasing towards Momota that he'd never admit to, before finally indulging Kiibo and setting off again. He waited until the door closed behind them before poking Kiibo in the shoulder with a playful smile. "You weren't very comfortable in there."

"I wasn't." Kiibo admitted, as if it was a question and not a statement. He turned to him with a small frown. "I'm not sure why. I suppose that fake or not, a room full of that many weapons is...unsettling, to say the least."

"Yeah, but none of them can actually kill you, so what are you so worried about?" Ouma teased as they began to walk back to the new opening, hoping to lighten the mood even if he'd have to hear a mini rant about robophobia in exchange. 

"Do you really think I only worry about myself?" Kiibo muttered, and it felt like his eyes were piercing through Ouma's very soul when he glanced up and locked gazes. It was a brief moment, broken by Ouma glancing away again, but it was enough for him to know exactly what the other was talking about. 

He chose not to address the speck of warmth in his chest as he rounded the corner and found a suitable distraction down the same corridor they were heading towards. "Gonta!" He called with a grin, rushing off in a run to throw himself at the other boy, as was quickly growing to be customary.

"Ouma-kun!" Gonta turned at his voice, giving him a gentle smile as he caught him in a warm hug, before releasing him quickly, turning his smile to the slowly approaching Kiibo. "Kiibo-kun! Have you two been up to the fourth floor yet?"

"Not yet. We were just about to take a look." Kiibo explained, and stepping back from Gonta, Ouma realised that they were standing in front of a set of stairs that was as ugly as all the other stairs in this building. "What are you doing standing here, Gonta-kun?"

"Gonta was going to go upstairs to look, but he isn't sure if it's dangerous or not." Gonta sheepishly answered, scratching his cheek in a show of nervousness as his gaze flickered up the stairs before returning to them. 

"Well, Tojo-chan, Angie-chan and Iruma-chan went up there ten minutes or so ago, and we haven't heard any screaming yet, so I think we're good." Ouma mused with a half smile, trying to play it off as a joke. His company didn't seem to appreciate his humour though, as Gonta gave him an uncertain smile and Kiibo gave him a stare of apprehension, as if to ask him if he was serious.

"W-Well, we can go up together! If there's something dangerous there, Gonta can protect you." He offered, a hand on his hip, though Ouma had a feeling the offer was partly because he didn't want to go up alone. Admittedly, this staircase in particular  _ did  _ seem more ominous than usual.

That didn't mean it was going to stop Ouma, who simply grinned and stepped up onto the first step of the stairs, glancing at the other two over his shoulder. "What are we waiting for, then? Let's go, team!"

He made a grand gesture up the stairs and began climbing, comforted by the sound of heavy footsteps behind him. 

That comfort dissipated quickly when they reached the fourth floor, the dusty air bearing down with a heavy sense of unease. It was shockingly dark, but Ouma realised a few moments later that that was due to the lack of windows on this floor. The darkness didn't hide the decrepit state of the area - the wood was dark and close to rotting, and the fabric hung from the ceiling was yellow with age. There were sporadic dark stains marring the walls that Ouma really didn't want to inspect any closer.

It didn't fit the standard of the rest of the academy. It didn't look like it belonged to the academy at all. It was as if someone had pulled apart a stereotypical abandoned house and crammed a random floor into the school.

"This place is giving Gonta a bad feeling." Gonta mumbled nervously beside him, tugging at the strap of his bug cage. Ouma nodded, catching the glow of Kiibo's lights out of the corner of his eye as he moved forward. He didn't like the way the floorboards creaked under his weight, but he pressed on, reaching a junction. He turned to glance down the left side, noticing a row of identical doors and, at the end of the corridor, a large dusty red door encased by a thick glass pane.

"Tell me about it." Ouma muttered lowly, approaching the closest of the three doors and gently pushing it open. It moved with a slight creak, revealing what could easily be mistaken as a void of darkness, if not for the dim candles flickering on the walls. They didn't make much difference.

Kiibo moved closer, into the doorway of the room and going as far as to take a few steps in, looking around with a curious look in his eye. "It seems to be empty." His eyes fell to the floor, lips pressed together. "Though these floorboards feel slightly unsteady."

This must have piqued Gonta's own curiosity, because he shuffled closer to take a few steps inside himself. He was quiet for a moment as he inspected the floorboards in the low light. "Oh, you're right! There aren't any nails in the floorboards. They're just supported by crosspieces, so they feel unsteady, but they're tightly packed so it's safe."

"Good to know nobody's going to be stepping through the floor." Ouma lightly remarked, stepping away from the door to go check the other two. A quick peek inside showed them to be identical to the first room, in both emptiness and darkness. He sighed, closing the final door and turning to see Kiibo and Gonta exiting the room.

"I'm assuming you didn't find anything?" Kiibo asked as Gonta closed the door behind him, moving back to the center of the corridor. Ouma gave a curt shake of his head, which was enough of an answer, it seemed, because they wordlessly ventured towards the right side of the junction. 

Gonta turned a corner and went ahead alone just as Kiibo drew Ouma's attention to a traditional Japanese style door at the end of the corridor by walking towards it. He threw a glance towards Gonta's tentatively disappearing form, and was reassured by the fact that anything dangerous was unlikely and, even if something  _ did _ happen, Gonta was probably strong enough to protect himself. He caught up with Kiibo just as he opened the door, and ducked in with a flash of a smile when the robot gestured for him to go first. 

The new room was hardly any brighter than the corridor was, lit by strategically placed lanterns, and Ouma was beginning to think spooky darkness was a staple of this floor. It was also shockingly large; the ceiling was well above his head, and neat red stairs connected a series of balcony floors. The space was filled with bookshelves and glass displays holding artifacts that were probably very valuable - Ouma didn't have the knowledge to tell.

"Ouma-kun, Kiibo-kun." Tojo greeted warmly, looking up from where she was inspecting a book in one of the glass displays. Ouma, upon wandering closer, noticed that the book seemed to be aged and handbound.

"Hey Mom!" He cheered, skipping up to her and breaking into a grin when she gave him a tired glare. She didn't need to verbally express her exhaustion at the title once again. "This is an impressive room, huh?"

"It certainly is. Many of these items are rather rare. I never thought I'd be able to see them so closely." Ouma managed not to jump at the sudden new voice, glancing up to see Shinguuji step closer to the railing on the second floor. Presumably, he had been looking through the bookshelf behind him. "If you couldn't already guess, this is my Ultimate Lab."

"You don't sound very excited." Kiibo mused with a small, confused smile. It was true that Shinguuj's voice was surprisingly flat for information that should have been exciting for him, at least, but the anthropologist merely shrugged and turned back to his bookshelf.

Weird. 

Ouma exchanged an odd look with Kiibo before turning his attention back to Tojo and raising an eyebrow in silent question. She sighed before whispering an explanation so Shinguuji couldn't hear, forcing Kiibo to shuffle closer to be within earshot. "I can't be certain, because he won't answer direct questions, but I assume he must still be affected by the events of yesterday."

"Must be pretty bad if this huge room full of supposedly once-in-a-lifetime artifacts isn't enough to cheer him up." Ouma muttered lowly as Kiibo nodded in silent agreement. There was a tense moment of pause between the three, as if unsure what to do with this information, before Ouma disregarded it entirely and split off to make a beeline towards a nearby cabinet.

"Oh, this looks cool!" He exclaimed, much louder than necessary - the sound echoed around the quiet walls and bounced back into his ears, but he chose to focus on the golden katana within the glass case. It was about a metre in length, and looked authentic, from what Ouma could see. 

He distantly registered the click of heels that signalled Tojo moving closer to him as he lifted the hinged pane of glass up and reached out to grab the katana. His fingers were mere centimetres away from clasping around it when a shout stopped him.

"Wait! Don't you dare touch an artifact with bare hands, especially not one as delicate as that!" Shinguuji had moved up a floor since the last time he had spoken, but was now leaning against the railing with white knuckles. Ouma smirked, the action half hidden by his scarf, satisfied that he was able to coax out a reaction. 

He had reared his hand back at the noise, but after a long moment of staring up at Shinguuji, he reached for the katana. He saw the anthropologist's eye sharpen, but was then distracted by his wrist being snared by none other than Tojo herself. She gave her a stern look, which only fed into the motherly image he had implanted on her. "If Shinguuji-kun tells you not to touch it, we should respect his decision. This is his lab, after all, and from what I'm aware, some of these artifacts are irreplaceable."

Ouma huffed, snatching his hand out of her grip and closing the glass. "C'mon, I wasn't  _ actually _ going to touch it. I don't wanna risk getting gold leaf on my fingers." When you got closer to the katana, the flakes were easier to spot, and he didn't want to deal with the aftermath of those sticking to his hands. He stepped back from the display entirely as a show of good faith, putting his hands up in mock surrender as he glanced up. "Sorry Shinguuji-chan! I didn't mean to make you panic."

Well, he did, kind of. He was curious as to if he could shake his stoney demeanor, and it seemed like he could. Only for a short period of time though, because with the safety of his katana assured, Shinguuji let out a suffering sigh and gave a single nod before turning his back on them entirely.

Ouma took another cursory glance around the room before his attention finally fell on Kiibo, and he clapped his hands together. "You ready to go or do you still want to look around?"

Kiibo's eyes lingered on a display of dolls, so Ouma had almost expected to leave alone, but the robot shook his head as he moved closer to him. "No, we can go now." Then, in a lower voice. "Though I do want to know your intentions for provoking Shinguuji-kun like that."

Ouma smiled and gave a wordless shrug in place of any meaningful answer, not willing to explain his small experiment. He turned to wave at Tojo over his shoulder as he hurried over to a set of doors at the back of the room, assuming they led back to the hallway. "Bye bye Tojo-chan!"

She looked extremely exasperated, but she offered him a smile back nonetheless, and taking that as a victory, Ouma left the room with Kiibo close behind.

He knew that the section of hallway they stepped out into was connected to the hallway they had entered from, but it felt like they might as well have been two seperate planes. It was flooded with a deep crimson light, and the walls here were littered with faces and inscriptions that he couldn't quite make out through the darkness. It was eerie, and while he didn't let his steps hesitate as he walked further down, he did take a small comfort from the green glow of Kiibo's lights; a cool, solid presence beside him, even though Kiibo himself looked about as unnerved as he felt.

They passed an alcove in the wall, separated from the main hallway by a torii, but Ouma didn't pay it much attention. It was obvious there was nothing within the alcove itself, and it was probably just some further anthropological decoration to prove the nearby lab was, in fact, Shinguuji's. 

Further along, they found a set of double doors. They were covered in overly saturated splatters of colour, and that was enough for Ouma to place his bets on this lab belonging to Angie. Good for her, he supposed, seeing as she mentioned wanting one. This time, Ouma opened the door with a flourish, and held it open for Kiibo, meeting his brief exasperation with a cheeky grin.

"Could you be any less of a dramatic brat?" Iruma's complaint was the first thing he registered of the room, so naturally, he already decided he hated it here.

"Could you be any less of a nosy bitch?" Ouma shot back, giving Iruma a half grin as he squinted to try and find her. The first thing he noticed about the room itself was that it was very, very bright, especially compared to the hallway. There were multiple LED lights emitting from above, and the brightness certainly wasn't helped by the fact that the floors and walls were almost entirely white, except for a few splashes and smears of black paint. 

"Could the two of you be civil for once?" Kiibo interjected bluntly, unimpressed by their banter as he closed the door behind him. 

"I'd be civil if Chinpouma actually acknowledged my greatness." Iruma sniffed, folding her arms over her chest and giving Ouma an accusatory look. 

"Bullshit, you started that without prompting!" Ouma stuck his tongue out at her, blinking until his vision finally adjusted to the details of the room. He ignored her resulting excuses, moving further into the room as he inspected the area.

It was relatively bare, for one, at least in comparison to the other Ultimate Labs. Maybe to give more room for actual art to happen. For two, it was, quite frankly, a mess. There were an assortment of art supplies - paint, sculpting tools, brushes - and materials - canvases, wood and wax - but they didn't seem to be kept in any manner of organisation. A glance upwards revealed that there seemed to be a lack of a traditional ceiling. Instead, the beams were fully exposed, which helped the room feel bigger than it actually was.

"Interesting design choice." Ouma mused aloud, before turning to the final person in the room that had yet to speak. Angie was fiddling with some of her tools, humming as she traced the paint on her forearms with a blank brush, a rainbow made of varying patterns. "This is your lab, right, Angie-chan?"

The question was rhetorical, considering everything he already knew, but Angie smiled sunnily at him nonetheless. "Yes, yes, Atua has confirmed it!" She put the brush down, spinning around. Her cardigan flared out around her. "Isn't it lovely?"

"Looks like a whole lot of nothing to me." Iruma scoffed, placing a hand on her hip as she slowly looked around the room to make a point, raising an eyebrow. 

"Exactly!" Angie bounced on the balls of her feet, swinging her arms from side to side. "It's like a blank canvas, so it helps Atua and I focus when I work."

There was something about that statement that didn't sit well with Ouma but he didn't care enough to ask. Perhaps he didn't really want to know. Either way, he made his way to the other end of the room, where a rear entrance door stood.

"That does make sense, though I would have thought that an artist's space would have more artistic pieces. For reference and inspiration." Kiibo commented, going over to a collection of tools to look over them with interest.

"No, no, no. Like I said, it's a blank canvas." Angie corrected, smile still securely in place even though her eyes carried something unreadable. Ouma's best guess was annoyance at being questioned. "After all, when I make art, I become one with Atua, so I don't need any more inspiration!"

"Are some cogs loose in your head or what?" Iruma's voice was haughty, but that didn't hide the slight discomfort on her face as she squinted one eye at Angie. "What the fuck does that even mean?"

Ouma, meanwhile, had noticed that the rear door had a sliding lock. It wasn't the best quality, easily moved by the slightest touch, and the door itself looked a bit old despite the white coat of paint. He glanced back to the other doors out of curiosity, and noting that his thought had been correct when his gaze landed on the cylinder lock across the room. "Your doors have two different locks, did you know that?"

This prompted the rest of the people in the room to check for themselves, Ouma helpfully stepping to the side so they could see the sliding lock, before Kiibo frowned. He looked mildly uncertain, chin held between his thumb and forefinger. "They  _ are _ different." He said, as if he didn't believe his word alone. "That's strange. Perhaps they didn't have time to renovate the entire room? That would also explain the exposed beams."

"More like they were too lazy to finish. The little shits could've just kept this area locked if they weren't done!" Iruma grumbled, showing off some legitimate intelligence with a very good point. Unfortunately, it was ruined by her subsequent bragging, puffing her chest out. "I can modify them to match, if you want. It'd be a breeze for me!"

"No, it's fine the way it is." Angie insisted, her smile faltering into a pout as she seemed genuinely upset at the idea of Iruma tampering with her locks. "People tend to have an obsession with symmetry, but I don't agree with that. I believe asymmetry is much more beautiful, because it makes it more unique!"

"That's a nice way to look at it." Kiibo mused, though he still appeared to be mildly bewildered by the concept as his eyes glazed over the room as a whole, as if trying to understand Angie's point of view.

Ouma decided he had enough, and that they had exhausted all avenues of discussion except one. He clicked his tongue, raising an eyebrow when three pairs of eyes landed on him. "So, on another note, I've got one last object in this bag and I've got no idea what to use it on. Got any ideas?"

"I dunno, dipshit, are you gonna tell us what the fucking object is?" Iruma retorted, looking much too proud of herself for a statement that barely affected Ouma personally.

He didn't give her the satisfaction of an answer, especially not an insult, so instead he silently reached into the bag and pulled out the golden hammer. It was small, most of the handle fitting neatly into his palm, and he held it up dramatically so everyone else could feast their eyes upon it. "Where am I supposed to use a hammer, huh?"

"Um, maybe there's something you need to hammer into the wall to unlock it?" Angie suggested with a small him, pressing her finger into her cheek as she pouted in thought. "But I don't remember seeing anything like that around the academy. What else could a hammer be used for?"

"Aha!" Iruma snapped her fingers together, grinning wildly. "It can be used to break shit too!"

"Break what, smartass, or did you not think that far ahead?" Ouma drawled back with a quirk to his lips, fidgeting with the hammer absentmindedly as Iruma shot him a glare.

"If we're thinking about something breakable," Kiibo spoke in a quick burst, to speak over any possible insults, pausing to take an actual moment to think. "could it possibly be used on the glass wall at the stairs to this floor? There looked like there was a door behind it, which might lead to another area."

"Wow, Kiiboy, you're so smart!" Ouma gasped, turning to face him as he clapped his hands together, clasping the hammer's handle between his palms to avoid dropping it. His voice sounded more sarcastic than he intended, considering he was almost certain that the other was onto something.

"Hey, what about me? I was the one who suggested breakables!" Iruma complained loudly, as if she had been slighted somehow, the noise overlapping with Angie's much more casual cooing. "Oh, are you gonna try that out then?"

Ouma ignored Iruma as usual, giving Angie a smile as he threw the hammer in the air and caught it relatively seamlessly. "That's the plan!" He let a snicker disrupt his sentence when Iruma huffed in outrage at being ignored, before turning back to the door they entered from, pointing the hammer at it in lieu of his sceptre. "Off I go! Have fun doing whatever weird arty things you do in here, Angie-chan!" 

"Mhm, mhm, and good luck with the hammer!" Angie called as he reached the door and opened it, checking behind his shoulder to make sure Kiibo was following. Iruma had taken to passive aggressively rummaging through some of the art tools, but glanced up briefly when Kiibo thanked them for helping to smile in the face of a minor victory - getting her meager contribution acknowledged.

Ouma was pretty sure she had something going on with gratification, if a simple indirect compliment was enough to cheer her up, but he was also pretty sure she had a thing for degradation too, so he wasn't planning on changing his approach to interactions with her anytime soon.

He and Kiibo walked quietly back the way they came, the unnerving atmosphere of the floor not making either of them particularly talkative. When they reached the glass wall, adjacent to the empty rooms, Ouma stopped by the middle door and waited until Kiibo shot him a curious glance over his shoulder, having continued past the point he stopped, to throw the hammer at the glass. 

Kiibo yelped at the sudden projectile, and didn't have much time to react any further to Ouma's sudden action as the glass fractured and cracked from the point of impact, shattering into pieces. Ouma was out of the blast zone, safe from the flying glass, and Kiibo was unaffected, if not still a bit stunned. Once everything settled, the now accessible dusty red door creaked open an inch, as if beckoning them forward. 

"A bit of warning next time would be nice." Kiibo muttered as the two of them stared at the newly unlocked entrance, with enough bitterness to make Ouma snort and skip forward. 

"No promises!" He laughed, pushing the door open fully and letting his laughter die down as he scanned the new passageway. It was made up entirely of the same shades of dusty copper and red as the door, and had the vague feeling of an abandoned factory. Pipes sprouted from the wall and a few steps was all that was necessary for Ouma to notice that the entire area seemed to be made of metal. He couldn't verify if the things that looked like blank screens actually were screens, and he couldn't recognise anything else in the dim lighting, aside from the fact that it was all very metallic.

"Hey, you must feel right at home here!" Ouma teased as he spared a glance at Kiibo, following behind him. It was a poor joke, disappointing for his standards, but he decided he would rather deal with that backlash than the silence that was slowly sinking in. 

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Kiibo replied, clearly unamused but not seeming offended, which was a good enough outcome. He moved around Ouma to walk towards a door at the end of the passageway, and he could understand why. It was the only thing that stood out in the area, with a dirty silver frame and a light teal orb embedded in the center that looked like an eye staring down at them. He stopped in front of it, inspecting the door as he leant from side to side. "This is a door, right? How do you think it opens?"

Ouma caught up to him so he could get a look at the door himself, realising that the question was because the aforementioned door didn't actually have any visible handles. "I mean, it's a fancy door, so there's probably some fancy way of opening it." He reached out, trailing his fingers over the surface of the orb, and because it looked like a button of some sort, pushing down on it.

Turns out it  _ was _ a button of some sort, because as soon as he pulled his hand back, the orb began to turn and slowly, parts of the door began to slide into the wall until they were standing in front of a doorway instead. 

He gave a laugh of triumph, placing his hands on his hips in a dramatic show of victory before being distracted by Kiibo's sigh. "Everything here is so complicated. There was no need to design or implement a door that opens like that."

"You're one to talk." He snarked back with a bright grin, turning backwards as he crossed into the threshold of the new room so he could continue to face Kiibo. 

"Hey." Kiibo huffed with a small frown, tone reprimanding, but Ouma had a feeling he wasn't actually upset. He shrugged as his grin softened into a smirk, turning to properly face the room and take it in.

It was large, first of all. Not as big as Shinguuji's lab by a long margin, but still impressive. It was washed in cool, deep colours with streaks of neon and bright light manifesting in the circuit board patterns around the walls. There were VR sets in charging ports in a circle around the center of the room, surrounding the real thing that caught his eye. 

A huge metal cube, glowing with light through the cracks of panelling that held it together, with a familiar teal orb adorning its side. 

They stared at it for a long moment, before Ouma let out a sigh of defeat, readjusting his scarf. "What were you saying about everything being needlessly complicated? 'Cause you might actually be onto something."

Kiibo wasn't able to respond before they had some unwanted intruders. The Monokubs fell in from above with their usual catchphrase, landing in formation in front of them. Ouma noted that Monodam was in front of the other two, and decided that if context didn't already prove it, that alone showed that he was the leader now. 

Speaking of Monodam, he was already talking, his voice monotone as ever yet somehow carrying an illusion of happiness. "Congratulations! You were able to work out the painting puzzle-"

"The  _ very obviously glass _ wall was supposed to look like a painting?" 

"-by using teamwork! Isn't teamwork great?" Monodam talked over Ouma like he hadn't said a word, which was annoying but not surprising. He scoffed, slipping the now empty bag off his shoulder and balling it up before throwing it directly at the cubs out of spite. Monotaro yelped and scrambled to catch it, just about managing it despite also getting cloaked by it in the process.

It was funny to watch, but not as satisfying as he would have liked. 

It was at this point that Ouma mostly drowned their squeaking out, only keeping half an ear out for any vital information, as per usual. From what he gathered, the giant cube in front of them was actually a computer, a supposedly very impressive computer, that was powerful enough to transport them to another world.  _ Wow! _

Personally, he thought it was a pretty roundabout way of saying that they had VR, considering he could see the headsets right in front of him, but he digressed. It also seemed like Monodam was growing increasingly obsessed with teamwork and friendship to the point of it being destructive, and this was scaring his siblings, but that was none of Ouma's business.

They left at some point between him spotting a horribly familiar chest near the back of the room and him reaching said chest, but even if they hadn't, he would have spoken over to call out to Kiibo anyway. "I'm gonna bet that there's another Flashback Light in this thing." He patted the lid of the chest two times; it was identical to the previous one in every way, with the only differences being location.

"Oh, the previous one was in a chest?" Kiibo asked, crossing the room to stand beside him, reaching down to push the lid open. "I checked it after first seeing Gonta-kun's lab, but it was empty."

"Yeah, that'd be because Saihara-chan stole it immediately after I found it." Ouma chuckled as he leaned forward to see the contents of the chest, and just as he suspected, another Flashback Light was resting innocently within the velvet. He ducked under Kiibo's arms, impulsively reaching to grab the light first even though he was sure that the other wouldn't mind him taking it. "Yoink!"

Kiibo moved his arm out of the way as Ouma reared back, which was very convenient as it avoided any unnecessary bumped elbows or other collisions. He looked over the flashlight in his hands, making sure to keep his fingers away from the switch as he let Kiibo shuffle closer to scan it. It looked the same as the previous one, but he wasn't willing to check if the contents were the same right now. 

He groaned, dropping his hands so he was holding the light in his right and using the left to brush some strands out of his eyes. "We're gonna need to get everyone together to deal with this or something." He muttered, not bothering to hide the hint of frustration in his tone. His classmates were fine, but the academy was only getting larger and their number smaller. It was getting increasingly harder to track people down, and he wasn't one to carry his Monopad around with him. 

Kiibo nodded briefly, before offering him a small smile. "Maybe I can go and tell everyone to gather in the dining hall, and you can go and wait for us there?"

"Okie-dokie!" Ouma flashed a grin back, stretching his arms above his head. He was mostly grateful that he didn't have to try and round people up, especially when a moment later, Kiibo pulled his Monopad out of his jacket pocket. Of course he kept it on him at all times. 

Kiibo waved at him before turning to set off, and Ouma returned it despite knowing he couldn't see it with his back turned. He listened to the sound of Kiibo's retreating footsteps, heavy metal on metal as he disappeared down the factory-esque passageway, and stole another glance at the Flashback Light at his side. 

He was dreading what sort of memory it held, but he couldn't deny that he was often the curious type. 

With a huff, Ouma shook the thought out of his head and began his descent to the dining hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guess who's back!!!
> 
> I strongly believe that the first subchapter of every main chapter is the hardest to write because it's always entirely exploration and that is one of my least favourite things to write. Plus I have to get back into the swing of this story after a break too!
> 
> On the bright side, if any of you are interested in Amaguuji, or just want to gain some understanding on Shinguuji's attachment to Amami, chapter two's honourary one-shot is based entirely around them!! I uploaded it recently, so you can find it in the series.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I'll see you next chapter!


	19. 3.2 : Radio Whispers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second Flashback Light is somehow even worse than the first one. That is to say; it doesn't explain anything at all.

Ouma walked into the dining hall to find only Saihara sat at the table, in the middle of swallowing a pill dry, and decided his habit of walking quickly had not worked in his favour this time around.

He didn't say anything as he walked in and took a seat at the opposite end of the table, and neither did Saihara, who didn't seem to acknowledge his presence at all as he slipped the remaining packet of pills in his pocket. It wasn't because Ouma had a lack of things to say; he had plenty he wanted to ask Saihara. But it just seemed like a bad move tactically to try and pester him about it directly before a group meeting, so instead he leaned back in his chair and placed the Flashback Light on the table.

Saihara looked up after a few moments, something Ouma only knew by the rise of his head, and quickly noticed the device, lying stark against the tabletop. "Where did you find that?" He asked quietly, reaching out for the Flashback Light before thinking better of it and retracting his hand.

"The new computer room on the fourth floor." Ouma clicked his tongue, folding his arms over his chest after hooking one finger into his scarf and yanking it upwards. "It was in the same sort of chest as before. You might have known that earlier if you actually helped us explore." 

He didn't bother hiding the bitterness in his tone, but Saihara didn't react outside of a small smile, all politeness. "But I found out either way, didn't I? I told you, I'll take a look later. It's easier to investigate when everyone else isn't around anyway."

Ouma drew out a hum from his throat, but didn't get a chance to formulate a response before the hallway doors opened and their classmates began to filter in, in patterns of twos and threes. A few were muttering to themselves; Tojo had very clearly had to convince Shinguuji, who she walked in beside, to come, and even then, he seemed a little reluctant. Harukawa, too, looked uncomfortable, though Ouma guessed that was attributed to the odd looks she still received from some of the others. Kiibo was the last person to return with a skipping Angie in tow, and after a quick glance around to make sure everyone was accounted for, Ouma dramatically cleared his throat to call attention to himself.

It was effective as silence quickly settled over them, though that could have easily had something to do with the fact that the meeting had been called because of him to begin with. He waited for just long enough for Kiibo and Angie to take their seats, before clapping his hands together and grinning. "Well, team, looks like we have another one of these Flashback Lights." He took a moment to pick up the device, waving it in the air as if the others hadn't already noticed it. "What are our thoughts on that?"

"Yes, Kiibo-kun mentioned that!" Gonta smiled, though that quickly changed to something more inquisitive with a tilt of his head. "Gonta isn't sure what he thinks about it. Should we use it?"

"Well, it wasn't a very pleasant experience last time," Akamatsu sheepishly admitted, tugging at her tie, before a shadow of determination crossed her face, "but we might learn more about the Ultimate Hunt, right?"

"Oh, you're right!" Chabashira gasped, clasping her hands together with a bright grin. "You're so smart, Akamatsu-san! It's like she said, we should totally use it."

"You do make a good point." Shinguuji conceded, hand posed over his mouth while his visible eye narrowed with interest. "Since we learnt about it with the previous light, it would make sense for details to follow with this one. How intriguing."

"It may also explain more about Amami-kun's Ultimate title, and any of his involvement in the Ultimate Hunt." Tojo added lightly, and Ouma caught her glancing over to Shinguuji, trying to exchange a look that the anthropologist pointedly ignored. "Either way, it would be wise to use the Flashback Light, so we have as much potentially helpful information as possible."

"So we're giving this thing a whirl, right? We're all in agreement?" Ouma asked breezily, getting up from his seat, and while he phrased it as a question, he really didn't care if someone said otherwise. From what he had seen, the majority were in favour of the idea, and he wasn't going to change anything for one or two outliers.

Unfortunately, phrasing it as a question meant that it didn't stop anyone from voicing their opposing opinion. Angie made a small noise of disagreement, holding a hand up. "No, no, we shouldn't use it. Remembering things about our past may make our desire to leave this place stronger." Her expression was innocent, brows slightly downturned, but her tone was condescending in a way that rubbed him the wrong way.

"Yeah, no shit, 'cause we wanna get out! Why'd you think we want information, dumbass?" Iruma sneered, leaning back in her chair as she loosely folded her arms, crossing one leg over the other. "If you hate the idea so fuckin' much, then you can leave."

Angie shook her head, muttering something to herself, and Ouma raised a curious eyebrow but refrained from asking her to speak louder. He didn't have much of an opportunity to ask her anyway, because a synthetic smile lit up her face as she replied properly a moment later. "No, I'll stay! I know not to let idea of escape tempt me, because that is Atua's wish." She clasped her hands together, looking much too content, and while Iruma was visibly disturbed when she scoffed, neither she nor anyone else questioned the artist further.

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's do it!" Breaking the momentary tension left behind by that strange exchange, Momota grinned with the same optimism and determination he always had, looking at him expectantly.

Ouma shrugged back, flashing a smile of his own as he shifted the Flashback Light into one hand, resting his thumb over the switch. "Okay, on the count of three! One, two, three!"

He flipped the switch.

With this being the second time they used this weird technology, Ouma was able to brace himself for the sudden disorientation that took over his being. Light burst across his vision, and reality itself seemed to fall away underneath him as he waited for the flashes of scenes in the back of his mind to settle on an uncovered memory. After a few dizzying moments, it did.

_He couldn't move. Couldn't turn his head to see the rest of surroundings - not that it mattered when the entire room was blanketed in darkness._

_All he could focus on was the only source of light amidst the black. It was a television screen, a large rectangle of colour and pixels in front of him, displaying some sort of news report. He recognised the channel vaguely, knew it was one most people watched, but didn't dwell on that fact._

_Instead, he stared at his own face, a portrait on screen that stared innocently back, next to other portraits of similarly haunted eyes. The portraits were surrounded by ribbon and flowers, lit by flickering candles. The entire image was miserable, and for good reason._

_"In a series of tragic accidents, it appears that all sixteen of these talented individuals have died. The details have not been released to the public-"_

It was almost painful, how jarring the sudden return to the present was. It irritated Ouma to the core that the sentence was left unfinished, but there was nothing he could do to change that so he focused on blinking his vision back into focus. Then, once he could clearly see everyone else recovering, he set the Flashback Light down onto the table, placed his hands on his hips and cheerfully announced his most pressing thought. "Well, looks like we're legally dead. That's fun!"

"It did...seem to be a funeral." Kiibo murmured, finger pressed to his lips. He paused, his eyes wide. " _Our_ funeral, despite how illogical that seems."

"But how? We aren't dead." Gonta asked with big worried eyes, before that quickly dissolved into genuine panic. "Gonta isn't dead, is he?!"

Momota scoffed, his grin softening with reassurance as he leaned back in a facade of carelessness. "Of course not! We're here and we're alive." He paused as he scratched his goatee, his expression becoming uncertain. "It was...probably just some scripted show that we were all acting in. Our characters died!"

"And that would be a brilliant excuse, if it wasn't being shown on a news channel" Shinguuji sighed, hardly bothering to mask the condescenion in his tone. He faltered, glancing away as he reached a hand to adjust his eyepatch. "...Although, I can't recall which channel it was specifically."

"And that's the only thing we've remembered, isn't that so? The memory of a funeral even though we're not dead." Angie hummed, a light and happy sound despite the tension in the air. Ouma didn't know if she was getting better at lying or if she was starting to believe her faux happiness herself, and he wasn't sure which option he preferred either.

"More importantly, why was our funeral being broadcasted?" Harukawa grumbled, tilting her head downwards and causing the shadow of her bangs to fall over her eyes. "It doesn't seem very respectful."

"Yeah!" Chabashira added as she placed her hands on the table, making up for Harukawa's lack of emoting with her audible charged confusion. "I mean, only celebrities and murder victims," She winced, but glossed over the irony of that statement, and nobody pointed it out, "get their deaths reported on national news, right? And none of those people get their _actual_ funeral showed, either!"

There were a few murmurs of agreement, but nobody came up with a good explanation in as short of a time as Ouma liked, and the silence quickly became awkward. As soon as it did, he decided to share the first possibility that came to mind before he could stop himself, acting as casual as possible. "Maybe because we were being hunted? The Ultimate Hunt was, like, a super big deal, yeah?"

"It sure fuckin' feels like it." Iruma huffed, before straightening up with a smug grin, gesturing towards herself. "Obviously, I already know why _my_ funeral would be broadcasted, but that explanation makes the most sense for you shit-for-brains."

"If my brain is shit, I can't imagine what kind of disgusting mould makes up _your_ mind, Iruma-chan!" Ouma singsonged back, unable to help himself. His lips curled upwards with mirth when she reacted as she usually did - with embarrassment and humiliation. As per usual, nobody else seemed to find this amusing except for him, so the conversation continued as if it never happened.

"That would make sense. I guess a bunch of Ultimate students dying at once would make national television anyway, with or without the Ultimate Hunt." Akamatsu mused, thoughtlessly tapping her finger against the side of the table. The motion stilled for a moment as she frowned slightly. "But it's also weird, seeing as we're still very much alive."

"Really weird!" Angie nodded along, clasping her hands together with a smile. "But that's alright, because it doesn't matter. Learning about the past is a lesuire, not a necessity." Ouma didn't agree with that statement in the slightest, on account of his burning curiosity, at the very least.

Momota made a noise of disbelief in his throat, raising an eyebrow. Clearly, he wasn't particularly convinced either. "What the hell are you talking about? Of course learning about how we got here is a necessity!"

Angie merely shrugged, letting out a hum as her gaze fell to the painted doodles curling around her wrists. Her smile became just a little bit more strained.

Saihara cleared his throat quietly, the first noise he made since everyone else arrived. "That was a little disappointing though, wasn't it?"

"Disappointing?" Akamatsu asked, looking over at Saihara with confused brows and an encouraging smile, in an presumable attempt to make him feel welcome in the conversation. "What do you mean?"

Unfortunately for her efforts, it was Tojo who responded, sighing inaudibly as she brushed invisible dust of her skirt. "I'm afraid I have to agree. While it might be linked to the Ultimate Hunt, it didn't explain anything else about it. We know about as much as we did ten minutes ago."

"So this was a waste of time." Harukawa sighed, folding her arms over her chest. Then, before anyone else could refute or agree, she tucked some hair behind her ear and looked up to glare at the room. "And could you stop looking at me like that? I don't want to be here anymore than you."

For a moment, Ouma had forgotten about the wary looks Harukawa was recieving from some of the others and was caught off guard, but he was swiftly reminded by Shinguuji's humourless bark of laughter. "Considering you're a professional killer, I'd like to believe that the caution is justified." 

"C'mon, man, you can't judge a book by its cover, you know?" Momota argued back with a firmness to his words, looking more exasperated than he had any right in being. Then again, he supposed that was the price in choosing to fight someone else's battles alongside them. 

"Just because I'm an assassin doesn't mean I like to kill people." Harukawa muttered bitterly in addition to Momota's attempts at defense, and suddenly the room felt even tenser. A beat passed where nobody spoke, and Ouma had a feeling nobody breathed either, before she glanced to the side. "Besides, if I really wanted to kill everyone, you'd all already be dead."

"And- And how do we know you didn't _try_?" Chabashira whispered, and even though she bit her lip when Harukawa's gaze snapped over to her, she met it without hesitation. There was a deep grief in her eyes that clashed with the steely anger, even as the rest of her face displayed mild fear.

They both knew what she was talking about. They _all_ knew what she was talking about.

Harukawa stared for a few moments before her eyes fell, avoiding everyone else's gaze as she scoffed, pushing up to stand from her seat. "You could say the same about everyone else." She replied, and Ouma had to admit she had a point - who knows how many of them had the thought, had gotten to the point where they tried and simply didn't follow through? 

Harukawa stormed for the exit closest to her chair, which was the door leading to the outdoor seating area, and left without another word or glance. Momota seemed to be shocked into action at that, as he leapt out of his own seat and threw himself after her, following her out the door. "Hey, Harukawa, wait!"

The rest of them were left to deal with the emotional aftermath of all that which, as it turned out, was silence. Ouma exhaled heavily, eyes falling to the Flashback Light and quickly pushing it further away from him with two fingers. It had been a bit of a disappointment, really, and that sudden fiasco with Harukawa didn't help anything either. He supposed just because he had mostly accepted (her possible involvement in Yumeno's case was something his paranoia would never shake off) his internal grievances with her didn't mean everyone else had. 

Tojo got up, and glanced around at the gathered group with a tired look in her eye that Ouma could sympathise with.

"While we're here, should I make us some lunch?"

* * *

Ouma knew he didn't need to give Kiibo things in order to spend time with him, because he had been told so by the robot himself. However, he was stubborn, so being told not to was hardly something that would stop him, especially because he hadn't been giving him things with the intention of bribe anyway. 

Besides, he reasoned that he was developing a backlog of autumn coloured scarves from the MonoMono Machine, so he might as well use them for something. 'Something' being stalking around the academy on a mission with the scarf clutched in one hand, wrapped around his wrist a few times to avoid dropping it. 

He finally found Kiibo in the classroom they had woken up in all those days ago, seemingly working through a puzzle, sorting the pieces into small piles. Moving closer as he unravelled the scarf from his wrist, he realised that the puzzle pieces were all completely white, with the only difference between them being their shapes. 

He sighed in faux disappointment, hopping behind him and looping the scarf loosely around Kiibo's neck. "That's actually the most pathetic puzzle I've ever seen." 

Kiibo tensed in surprise, though when he turned to face him, he seemed calm, offering him an unamused look. "It may not be the same as a picture puzzle, but I find that it's very relaxing to just slot complex shapes together."

"Nerdy answer." Ouma declared, patting Kiibo's shoulders before moving around the desk to stand in front of him and face him, bracing himself on the desk with his hands. He ignored Kiibo's complaints at his response, instead letting himself smile. "I wanna hang out! Let's talk or something!"

"Is that why you gave me this scarf?" Kiibo cracked a small smile, lifting a hand to pick at the hem of it. "It's lovely, but I told you, Ouma-kun, you don't have to-"

"You think you're so special, huh?" He leaned forward with a huff, breaching personal space as he narrowed his eyes to avoid dwelling on the burst of embarrassment he felt. He pushed himself off the desk, shaking his head with a sigh. "I just had some repeats from the MonoMono Machine, and I don't really have any need for _that_ many scarves."

Kiibo raised an eyebrow, but didn't offer any further argument. He adjusted the scarf, making it sit nicer around his neck before glancing up at Ouma expectantly. "So what do you want to talk about today?"

Ouma clicked his tongue to fill the silence as he considered the question, rocking back and forth on his heels. "Well, we've done a lot of talking these past few days. Maybe we should _do_ something together instead." He tapped his finger to his lips, pulling a face of contemplation. "Have any hobbies? Things you like to do in your spare time?" He cleared his throat, placing a hand on his chest with a flick of his wrist. "For example, I like playing chess."

Kiibo took a moment to think, and as he did, he began to move his puzzle pieces into a small fabric bag, guessing they were going to end up leaving the classroom. "Well, I enjoy studying various things."

Ouma scoffed, waving his hand quickly as he placed the other on his hip, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance. "That's boring! C'mon, there's gotta be something more exciting than that. Have you tried any sports? Golf? Dance?"

Kiibo's eyebrows knitted together as he slipped his bag of puzzle pieces into the pocket of his gakuran. He stood up, glancing away sheepishly. "I've never had the opportunity to try golf. And dancing seems like it would be fun, but whenever I try, I somehow always end up doing the robot dance." A laugh rattled up Ouma's throat before he could stop it, and Kiibo eyed him with a hint of disdain. "What's so funny?"

Ouma snickered breathlessly, waving away any suspicion as he pulled his scarf up further. "Nothing, nothing!" He sighed, collecting himself as he straightened his back, folding his arms behind his head in an attempt to look nonchalant. "Anyway, loads of people have trouble dancing because they overthink it. Really, the trick to dancing is to loosen up and let your body take the lead!" His eyes brightened as an idea hit him, and a mischievous grin found its way onto his face as he bounced over, reaching for Kiibo's arm. "Oh, that's what we can do. I'll teach you how to dance!'

Kiibo seemed to be caught off guard, but Ouma liked to think he saw hope blooming behind his apprehension. "Really? Are you sure?"

"Sure, why not? It sounds like fun!" He let go of Kiibo in favour of skipping to the doorway, glancing back when he passed into the hallway to gesture him over. "We can go to the gym so we have more room." Kiibo watched him for a moment, before sighing with a smile, seemingly resigning himself to Ouma's whims as he followed him out of the classroom.

They made a quick detour to Akamatsu's Ultimate lab so he could steal some of her CDs and a player - "I can't teach you how to dance without music to dance to, Kiiboy!" - before arriving at the gym to find it as empty as it usually was. After all, in terms of boredom, there wasn't much in the gym that cured it.

Unless you came prepared, and Ouma certainly had, setting the CD player down near one of the walls as Kiibo trailed after him, the CDs they had taken in his hands. "What song do you want to play?"

Ouma let out a disinterested hum, unhooking his sceptre from his belt and laying it down beside the CD player. "I mean, it doesn't really matter. As long as it has a beat, you can dance to anything." He straightened up, rocking back on his heels with the momentum. "Just pick a random one, or one with a case you like, and then pop it in!"

Kiibo nodded, shuffling through the available CDs before finally making his selection. He crouched down with it in one hand, placing the stack of CDs down beside the player with the other. The case of the chosen one was a gradient of warm hues, with the lines of sunbeams drawn in gold - a welcoming image, which was precisely why Kiibo had chosen it. 

It didn't take long for music to begin filling the room, sounding just as warm as the case had suggested. It was an upbeat piano piece with a jazzy sort of style, and Ouma was a little relieved with that. There had always been a possibility that it would be something more melancholy, and dancing was always easier with a peppy beat. He bobbed his head as he got into the song, retying his scarf to make sure it was secure before wandering towards the center of the room, easily beginning to dance.

"Uh, Ouma-kun?" He bounced on the balls of his feet as he turned to check on Kiibo, finding him shuffling closer but hesitating in actually beginning to dance. Ouma snorted, amused as he shimmied his shoulders and beckoned the robot closer.

"C'mon, I already told you, the first step to dancing is to relax and not overthink." He said, shifting his weight from foot to foot in a gentle sway. Kiibo gravitated over to him, forcing himself to relax as he tried to mimic his swaying. He succeeded, if not a little awkwardly, and while Ouma had advocated for letting his body go with the flow, he also knew that copying his moves would be the best place to start, so he didn't comment on it. Instead, he cracked a grin. "Hey, yeah, like that! Dancing in its purest form is just an expression of self, so thinking shouldn't be needed, y'know."

"That's what I don't understand." Kiibo admitted as Ouma escalated his swaying to a sashay, impatient to actually dance. "How do you not think about it?"

Ouma let out a hum as he thought of how to describe it, stopping his movement, before shrugging as he held a hand out towards the other. "How about I teach you a partner dance? It's easier to show instead of tell."

Kiibo eyed the offered hand for a long moment, before accepting with a small nod, placing his gloved hand in his. Ouma reached for his other hand too, and Kiibo wordlessly complied. "Just follow my lead, m'kay?" Ouma asked with a half grin, and waited for another nod of confirmation before beginning to dance again.

It was slow at first, a simple step back followed by a shift in weight and a step forward. Kiibo followed it without much trouble, movements stiff but holding potential. Ouma tangled their fingers together, picking up the pace and noticing Kiibo watch their feet with a brow furrowed with concentration, let out another hum. "Hey, hey, eyes up here! It's awfully rude to ignore your dance partner."

Kiibo blinked in surprise, and fumbled a little as his eyes darted up to meet his, but Ouma was pleased to see him continue to move with his steps, as if on autopilot. It's not like he could overthink if he was distracted. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"Whatever, I'll forgive you this time because you're still learning." Ouma sighed dismissively, but his smile was playful. "What do you think of the music? It probably isn't the electronic disco you usually listen to but-"

Kiibo squeezed his hands indignantly with a frown bordering on a pout, and Ouma cut himself off with a burst of laughter. His dance partner took the opportunity, as Ouma bowed his head with his laugh, to grumble. "Don't be robophobic. We may be closer than most but that doesn't mean you get a free pass."

"What, am I wrong about the electronic disco?" Ouma joked, peeking up at him through his messy fringe and snorting at Kiibo's equal parts irritated and resigned sigh.

"Yes. I actually quite like songs like this one, so it was a rather lucky pick on my part." He lifted his chin slightly to show his confidence in his answer, and Ouma had to bite his bottom lip to avoid outright laughing at it. 

"Right." Ouma snickered, before abruptly releasing one of Kiibo's hands and throwing his arm out, following the motion with the rest of his body and leaning back slightly so more of his weight relied on their remaining handhold. "And on an unrelated note, you seem to be getting the hang of this!"

Kiibo's eyes seemed to brighten at that, as Ouma leaned forward to distribute his weight evenly again, continuing to dance while keeping hold of one of his hands. "Really?!" He looked back down at his feet, and Ouma immediately tsked at him, mock disappointed. Kiibo realised his mistake, quickly looking back up at him with a hopeful smile. "This is what dancing is like?"

"Yep! Casual dancing, at least. You wanna try going solo?" He winked, before releasing Kiibo's other hand and spinning away from him before the robot had a chance to reply. He took a moment to gather his bearings as he stopped his spin, whipping his head around to check on how Kiibo was doing and hoping he hadn't just stopped with the lack of guidance.

He hadn't, and though he looked a little more awkward now he was on his own, he didn't look as stiff as he originally was, so Ouma counted that as a win. 

"Hey, look at you, you're doing it!" He called, half teasing and half legitimately happy for him. His dancing became a little more uncoordinated now that he wasn't tethered to Kiibo, his already messy hair growing messier and obscuring his vision even further as he bounced on his feet, not that he cared. 

"I'm doing it?" Kiibo asked, again glancing down at himself before fumbling himself through a spin, smile growing. "I'm doing it! I can see why people like to do this all the time - it's fun!" Looking at him now, Ouma was pretty sure the glow of his lights had brightened alongside his expression, though under the fluorescent gym lights, it wasn't easy to tell.

As if on cue, the song winded to its natural end, and the two stopped their movements. Kiibo seemed visibly disappointed at this turn of events, despite it being inevitable, and Ouma snorted at his expression as he turned back to the CD player. 

"Alrighty, my turn to pick the song, then?"

* * *

Ouma finally took the time to update his whiteboard after dinner, even though he really didn't want to. Moving Amami and Hoshi's portraits and scribbling down a brief note on the case was a task that was wholly depressing, but there wasn't much point in having the whiteboard if he didn't keep it up-to-date, so he followed through with his emotions parcelled away neatly in the back of his mind.

He added a few notes on some of his other, surviving classmates for the sake of filling space - nothing offensive enough to get him in any real trouble if someone else found them, though it was tempting. They weren't very serious notes anyway, mostly random observations like some weird habits or nervous tics he realised the others had. 

His attention fell on Saihara's portrait, placed solitary in the top right corner. Even in the picture, his eyes were guarded by the brim of his hat and his fringe, and any amusement he had from his idle scribbling melted bitterly in his stomach. Out of everyone in his class, Saihara unsettled him the most, purely because of how vague he was. It was hypocritical, he knew that and he didn't particularly care.

The truth of the matter was that yes, he was a hypocrite, because he knew his own intentions and he didn't know Saihara's. And either way, nobody who went to the lengths they did to hide their eyes was an overly honest person. 

The chime of the intercom, already familiar to his ears, shook him out of his silent staring and considering it wasn't late enough for a visit to be strange yet, he went to open the door without much hesitation. He left Saihara's picture in the corner of the whiteboard, not finding any reason to move it closer to any of the others. It was more accurate that way.

Ouma blinked as he took in the sight outside his door. He wasn't sure why he was _still_ surprised, considering this wasn't the first time this happened, but he didn't let any surprise bleed into his flippant tone. "Kiiboy. What's up?" 

Kiibo was waiting in front of him, absentmindedly tugging at his sleeves as his gaze wandered to the side. His attention snapped to Ouma at his words, and he smiled, small and soft like he wasn't sure if he wanted to. "My apologies. I hope I didn't interrupt anything, but I wanted to ask if you'd like to take a walk with me?"

Ouma squinted, feeling immense dejá-vu related towards their argument two days ago, which was a memory he wasn't exactly keen to recall. Kiibo must have recognised his poor choice of words too, because he cleared his throat and held his hands up in an almost placating manner. "I assure you I don't intend to talk about anything relating to our current situation. I just thought your company would be nice."

He cracked a grin at Kiibo's explanation, finding it incredibly ironic because they had arguably spent most of the day together. Already confident in the knowledge that the other would adhere to his promise, he relaxed and stepped outside, locking the door behind him, an answer to the offer without words. "Geez, we spend one day not talking to each other and suddenly you can't get enough of me! Did you miss me or something?" He teased as he glanced over his shoulder, before turning around completely once his dorm key was safely in his pocket. 

Kiibo huffed, looking away and leading the two of them down the stairs. "You say that like you didn't miss me either. You remember that you were the one who sought me out earlier today, right?" 

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Ouma hummed, folding his arms behind his head and snickering when Kiibo shot him a flat expression, trailing after the robot as they exited the dorms. 

The night air was cool as always, a gentle breeze brushing against him. It was just past sunset, the sky barely a shade lighter than midnight darkness, making the stars fainter and harder to see. If he squinted, Ouma could just about make them out, but he was more interested in the area on ground level, eyes sweeping the courtyard for any of their other classmates. 

His eyes landed on two figures relatively nearby, together in the grass beside the pergola. They appeared to be doing sit-ups; more accurately, one of them was doing sit-ups while the other sat in a vaguely correct position without doing any of the actual exercise. Ouma nudged Kiibo to grab his attention, pointing out the pair as he grinned, full of mischief. "Look who came out of her den!" Even though she had said she'd do so, he still found himself pleasantly surprised with Harukawa's appearance outside, and was particularly amused by the fact that she was spending her time with Momota, of all people. He supposed his pestering had got through to her. He lowered his voice to a whisper dripping with playfulness, ducking his head closer to Kiibo's. "They seem pretty buddy-buddy with each other, wouldn't you say? It's impressive, how much trust Momota-chan has in Harukawa-chan, considering how she probably knows how to kill him with a fork."

He didn't think he was speaking loud enough for the two in question to hear him, but he similarly didn't think it was just coincidence that Harukawa looked up that moment and caught sight of them, gaze sharpening into a glare that clearly wished for them to go away. It suggested anger, but the faint tint high in her cheekbones led Ouma to believe that it was driven more by embarrassment. Momota followed her gaze, sitting up properly as he did so, and reacted with a warm smile. He raised an arm to wave at them. "Hey guys!"

Ouma was filled with the urge to poke fun at him, knowing that he was in a seemingly good mood, but he kept that to himself as Kiibo stepped in to handle the social interaction for the pair of them, waving back politely. Ouma waved back too while Kiibo spoke, exaggerated with his whole arm as he rocked up onto his toes. "Good evening Momota-kun, Harukawa-san! We didn't mean to interrupt you, we were just on a walk."

"Then get back to it and stop staring at us." Harukawa snipped back, blunt and flat, with her eyes directly on Ouma. It was pretty obvious who she was addressing, and that in itself was hilarious to him. Momota blinked at her hostile response, and turned to mutter something to her with a sheepish grin. 

Ouma was fully prepared to try and eavesdrop, but the distance made it near impossible and even if it didn't, Kiibo had already started walking again and it felt like bad etiquette to not follow him. Besides, Harukawa was observant enough to spot him trying to eavesdrop even if Momota was not, and he was sure she wouldn't be happy about them if just observing her from a distance rubbed her the wrong way. 

Kiibo walked them towards the outdoor seating area, taking a seat at one of the tables once he arrived. Ouma continued to walk past him to the dining hall entrance, checking if the door was closed properly. It wasn't officially nighttime yet, so they could go inside the dining hall if they wanted, but clearly that wasn't Kiibo's plan so once he knew the door wasn't ajar, he circled back and took a seat opposite him. He grinned, propping his elbows on the table. "Y'know, if you wanna just sit and talk to me, you can just say so instead of asking me if I want to go on a walk. Beating around the bush like this isn't necessary."

The words carried a hint of taunting, but they were mostly true. Ouma shouldn't be saying it, because of his own habit of doing things in roundabout, non-straightforward ways, but again, he was never one to care about how hypocritical he appeared. Kiibo frowned, expression petulant. "We _did_ walk here though, didn't we?"

Ouma laughed, shaking his head. "Touché, I _guess_. Do you have any ideas on a conversational topic then, if it's got nothing to do with the killing game?" He threw up some halfhearted jazz hands with the reminder of their situation, but Kiibo didn't react to the mischief as he looked away, face falling into something neutral. 

"I do." He said, voice firm and confident before he hesitated, fidgeting with his gloves as he turned back to Ouma. Despite nobody being in earshot, the robot lowered his voice, enough that he had to lean forward to make sure he heard it. "I'm aware it's a sensitive subject for you, so you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but I was- I wanted to ask you about DICE again. Since you didn't tell me the truth last time I asked."

Ouma sucked a sharp breath in through his teeth. He supposed it was inevitable, considering the knowledge Kiibo had thanks to the previous motive, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Vulnerability was never something he enjoyed aligning himself with. "You couldn't have asked to come into my room to ask that instead of coming out here?" He grumbled, grasping at something to complain about as he folded his arms over his chest, slumping into himself.

"I'm sorry." Kiibo replied, a little louder than his initial question, and the genuine concern in his voice almost hurt him. "Like I said, you are under no obligation to answer me-"

"It depends on what you're asking about DICE, specifically." Ouma interrupted before Kiibo could finish, leaning back slightly in his seat, and it's the truth. Granted, most things about his organisation were things he'd rather keep locked in his mind and to himself, especially in a place like this, but there were a few things that he would be willing to share. Things he would even like to talk about. But unless Kiibo asked for them directly, he wouldn't say a word.

Kiibo blinked in surprise, and he wasn't sure if he was aware of it, but he began to fiddle with his gloves as he replied. "If you're sure...I'd like to hear about your friends, whatever you'd be willing to tell me. The other members, your followers?"

Kiibo couldn't hide his hopeful tone even if he tried, and Ouma relaxed a little because his family- he could talk about his family honestly to Kiibo, especially when he gave him such a non-specific prompt. He was just asking about the people. 

"Okay, sure, let's see." Ouma hummed, propping his chin into his palm, and pretended he didn't see the way Kiibo leaned forward slightly in interest, eyes bright. He mulled over names and what to use, but he made up his mind pretty quickly. "Well, we all have code names. There's King, Queen, Spade, Club, Heart, Diamond, Ace, Jack and Wild."

"They're all related to playing cards." Kiibo noted aloud with a hint of intrigue, one finger pressed lightly to his chin.

"What can I say? I love myself a good matching aesthetic." Ouma grinned with a wink, before throwing his arms out dramatically. "It's all about the showmanship! The drama! The costumes! The performance!" 

"Well, you're certainly flamboyant." Kiibo smiled slightly at Ouma's mock bow at the compliment, before growing inquisitive again. "What's your code name, then? I would have assumed you would be the King, considering you're the leader, but I've been proven wrong."

Ouma clicked his tongue, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes. "Joker." His lips quirked up in a smile as he raised an eyebrow. "It was originally created as a trump card, even though it's basically been adapted to being synonymous with wildcard. I thought it was fitting."

"It suits you." Kiibo nodded in understanding, gaze wandering to the sky. It had darkened since they first came out, and now the constellations stood out against the backdrop. 

Thinking of what else to say, Ouma turned his eyes to the sky too and relaxed. He pulled his scarf higher even as his metaphorical guard softened with the memory of those closest to him. His voice was quiet when he spoke again, hesitant and barely audible, to avoid word escaping this little bubble of content they had somehow managed to craft in the middle of life-or-death. 

"We're family to each other." 

Once he started, he just allowed the words to keep falling, eyes fixated on the sky and ignoring the fact that Kiibo was listening. "Diamond's the youngest. She's like a little sister to all of us, and she acts super innocent, but she's a real trickster when you get to know her. Uses her innocent appearance to her advantage - but she learned that from the best." He snickered, placing a hand over his chest in faux pride. "Spade is, like, the only sensible person in the group. He's a big brother to me, or maybe a mom friend. Point is, he's cool, but he's also not very straightforward. Sensitive to people's emotions and stuff. He makes sure I don't get us in irreversible trouble. Then there's Clubs - she's a bit of a gossipy bitch, but she cares for us a lot. If she thinks any of us have been slighted, she'd get into a fight over it faster than we can stop her."

He chuckled, the sound light before dipping lower and tapering off uncomfortably. He hadn't thought about it much, but given the chance, he was suddenly very aware of how homesick he was. Everyone here was, and he knew that fact well, but somehow he hadn't realised that the feeling extended to him too until he started really talking about them.

"Ouma-kun?" He looked up to find Kiibo watching him with concern, laced with curiosity, and he realised his silence had gone on for far longer than could be brushed off as thinking time.

"I miss them." Ouma mumbled, and immediately proceeded to mentally kick himself for it, because since when has he ever allowed himself to be this emotionally transparent in front of someone? He was losing his edge at the worst time possible - if he wasn't careful, he was going to start doing this in front of people other than Kiibo, and that was a disaster he didn't want to have to deal with.

Still, Kiibo offered a soft smile. "I think that's a mutual feeling among all of us. I certainly miss Professor Iidabashi." It hardened into something determined, hopeful after a pause. "But there's still a possibility that we'll survive all of this, no matter how slim it may feel. There's the chance that someone will save us, too. DICE, for example, cares too much about you to not do anything in the wake of your disappearance, right?"

Ouma swallowed thickly and thought about how he would die for his family, and how the opposite was just as true. "Right."

Kiibo nodded, happy with the conclusion, before giving a small, nervous laugh. "Sorry, I said I wouldn't talk about the situation. I'll do my best to keep my word but please, continue. Could you tell me about what the others are like?"

Ouma turned to give him his full attention and pulled up a grin as he placed his elbows on the table, conceding to Kiibo's request. 

He didn't have the heart to tell him that at the rate they were dying at, saviours would arrive much too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been gone for nearly three months and the first thing i post is a very kiibouma saturated chapter which i think is very on brand of me 
> 
> sorry for the impromptu hiatus!! college has been keeping me busy, and on top of that, I've fallen headfirst into another fandom and most of my writing stamina has been poured into writing for that, because they tend to be much shorter than the average of these chapters and don't burn me out as quickly 
> 
> I'm not giving up on this fic though!! However, because of all the aforementioned, I'm gonna say that moving forward, I'll probably aim for an update once a month as a minimum. It may be more frequent than that depending on how it goes :) 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I'll see you next chapter!


End file.
